| What y’all know about real cashin' and topless Jags
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| Doing 80 on the ave, goin' on the cop some hash
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| Stash box, no more airbags, just pop the dash
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| Got them things with the sling hammer to cop them bath
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| Slouch down in the bucket seats, real discreet
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| Ice grillin' like fuck it, I’m too real to speak
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| So suck it in, denim down with the Chuck and Timbs
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| Fitted cap so y’all can get it that I’m hustlin'
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| I’m a Mr. Queen Mohanin', Kurt Cobain
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| So if you thinkin' too hard, you gon' hurt your brain
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| From snortin', my feelings is as cold as my chain
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| AZ, it’s the angels that chose my name
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| For the return, it’s the second coming, left my woman
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| Had to recoup from all the stress and reckless runnin'
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| See the beats don’t stop when the heat don’t pop
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| All it means is that I’m low 'til I see and drop
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| It’s on |