| It’s another interlude motherfucker
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| You know it’s Animal the Mixtape Bully nigga, MTB
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| You know how I do it the way I do it when I do it the way I do it
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| Motherfucker stab you in your throat with a icepick
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| Shoot you in the face with a beebee gun
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| Whatever I do to bring you to the conrete I’ma do it, you heard?
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| My motherfuckin nigga A, it’s the closin of the album nigga
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| I salute you nigga, for never bein a bitch
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| For never bein a bitch-ass nigga
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| Cryin, retirin, sayin you comin back to the game
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| Go findin God and comin back, keep gettin shot and comin back
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| Niggaz doin mixtapes and comin back
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| Lyin 'til y’all caught with guns and comin back
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| Keep comin back baby, you in the top five man
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| Y’all niggaz pay The Source for mics man
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| Cause you don’t know how to be an original nigga from the streets
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| I respect you man, close it out like this, 2-double-oh-5
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| Fuck the world, you heard, say what’s up A.W.O.L. |
| take it I am one of the flyest, crew is like the Al’Qaeda’s
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| We war like in the mess halls of Elmyra
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| Bodies get caught, predicate spells is higher
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| Why talk if you ain’t walk through hell’s fire
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| All-nighters, upscale attire
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| In car get new cars you and your mans admire
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| Young messiah, back bottom guns for hire
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| I am that what the rap contracts require
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| Ghostwriter, coast to coast cyphers
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| I do this for them grown men in diapers that don’t like us Though, still the nicest, sendin kites to Riker’s is priceless
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| Reminiscin on past life fights with Cypress
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| Hung lifeless, sprung from financial crisis
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| Never ran, I stand amongst the righteous
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| AZ-Q, dark denimy V suits
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| His, arson is lethal, only pardon his people so Just ask it open the closed casket
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| Coke or the dope acid I’m back on that old Shaft shit
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| Got my ratchets, army fatigue jacket
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| Fitted cap on backwards with them cats from Flatbush
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| Bravehearted, fuck if they say squash it We remain the largest, we invade regardless
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| Trains to Spofford insane with a brain from Hartford
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| It’s hard to explain my artwork
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| One for the haters, two for the true and the raiders
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| I know dudes who eat your food with a razor
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| It’s major, barbaric, brutal behavior
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| Called addict, I talk about the jewelry later
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| My respect is for the DL cartel connects
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| And the crews that came through and left arise well effect
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| Finesse, big boys only play with the best
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| It’s no regrets, bein dead broke and raised in the 'jects
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| I’m a vet, cousin Comstock callin collect
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| Sayin he just left the box hot annoyed and depressed
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| Claimin he stressed did a 3 still facin the stress
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| I’m like look this ain’t the vote and you ain’t facin your death
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| So save your breath, tie your boots up and bang with the rest
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| Cause in reality they just incarcerated your flesh
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| You know the deal, I pray they process your appeal
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| Cause on the real, I still got my hands on the wheel
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| And I’ma drive 'til the gas run out
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| Either crash or a wrap 'til a smash come out
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| We them real niggaz |