| In the Lex we gettin blunted
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| Fuckin hoes and countin money
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| Niggas bout anything head bustin and rap hustlin
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| Niggas that seventeen playin wit cake nigga
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| Nigga disrespcetin mine look we pullin triggas
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| Leavin em foul plus me and Juvenile we blastin
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| Nigga ya lights out we aint bout no playin and laughin
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| Whoever try ta stop us from shinnin
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| Four karat choppers out the window start to firing
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| Tag-teamin is a must for me and my rounds
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| I catch one he catch one thats how its goin down
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| Fuckin right we do it once play them hoes like that
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| While I get my dick sucked he hit the bitch from the back
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| We spend cash with each other
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| Toss ass with each other
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| And if a nigga play with us spin a bin with each other
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| Fuckin right
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| We click tight
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| Nothin come in between
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| Tommy chopper can fall paper chasin that green
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| Chorus: Juvenile
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| There once was a nigga and his name was Turk
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| He always shot balled and he put in his work
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| Until one dy he was bustin’with a dude
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| Then he hit’em with the K knocked’em ouuta his shoes
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| Verse Two: B.G.
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| B.G. |
| and Turk on fire true H.B.s
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| In my down low Camaro blowin’them weeds
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| Its a must we stay vest up cuz we worth a lot of chesse
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| Told them haters we was goin’nation they didn’t believe
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| Ca$h Money worth figuers and it aint no joke
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| We aint never been no hoe
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| So run up in ya smoke
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| I tote a chopper in the trunk 9 and Mac on the seat
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| Tuesday and thursday I lay low task force on they sweep
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| On Sunday I’m out shinnin'
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| On the lake on crome straight blindin'
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| Me and my round off in Whispers Big Tymin'
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| Ask them hoes where the bar ya thank I’m lyin'
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| At our concerts in helicopters we flyin'
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| Aint no secret niggas hatin’niggas dyin'
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| Chorus: Juvenile
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| There once was a nigga name Baby G (B.G.)
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| He drove around town with a 223
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| Until oneday he was bustin’with a dude
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| So he hit’em with the K and knocked’em outta his shoes
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| Verse Three: Hot Boys
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| B.G.: Playin’with us nigga off top we’ll hurt cha
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| Me and the lil Turksta down ta fuckin’twerk ya Turk: They got a lot of niggas hatin’on me and the B.G.
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| Get in our way we’ll smoke ya leave ya wet in the street
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| B.G.: AKs and SK rifles I tote them
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| Playa hata and balla blocka I smoke them
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| Turk: Now when we ride we ride fly stunt like a Ac (Acura)
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| We love ta shine get down and dirty in black
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| B.G.: I ride in sharp cars and I make a lot of feddi
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| Ya need years ta prepare ta fade me ya aint ready
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| Turk: We’ll leave ya block shook
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| Fuck ya hoe and get a hook
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| Nigga who try sizin’up get they life took
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| B.G.: I don’t play dawg I got a resume to prove it Rub me the wrong way I’ma draw down and start shootin'
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| Turk: For my nigga I’ll blast be the first ta hit the set
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| Cock back the Mac and let bullets eject
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| Chorus: Juvenile
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| There once was some niggas out the CMB
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| Some out the mario some out that wild T.C.
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| Until one day they was bustin with some dudes
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| So they hit em with the K knocked em outta they shoes
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| Uh knocked em outta they shoes
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| T.C. |
| nigga knocked em outta they shoes
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| V.L. |
| nigga knocked em outta they shoes
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| They knocked em outta they shoes
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| Hot Boy$ knocked em outta they shoes
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| B.G. |
| knocked em outta they shoes
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| Nigga Turk knocked em outta they shoes
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| The H.B.s knocked em outta they shoes
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| My nigga Baby knocked em outta they shoes
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| My nigga Manny knocked em outta they shoes
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| Knocked em outta they shoes
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| Knocked em outta they shoes |