| Was brackin' P’s, makin' choppers jump like a trampoline
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| Lemon squeeze, already stocked on that XD
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| Tangerines, three hundred pills get you thirty keys
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| Mama mad at me 'cause she know her son stuck up in these streets
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| Seen a hundred G’s way before a rap check, huh
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| I paid twenty-one for these Roxys, nigga, blackjack, huh
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| I don’t get sleepy, I put opps to nap nap
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| Ain’t pay to get you popped, I just gave my dawg a hand dap
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| Huh, I’m the motherfuckin' general, it get critical
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| Boy, you know it’s surgical if I gotta get physical
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| My dawgs into takin' souls, they so spiritual
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| And yeah, I’m still sellin' hoes, they fuck for a slip or two
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| Huh, I think I’m Skuba Steve, surf down your block with these .223s, huh
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| Ain’t no future in your front, and I’m like MT, breathe
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| I’m gon' walk up on your ass, I don’t need no infrared beam
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| Huh, BG, SG, huh, WSP
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| Slide to your hood just to threaten niggas, huh
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| Nah, I’m cappin', get to scrappin', get to stretchin' niggas, huh
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| Put that money on your head or we could bet it, nigga, huh
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| Poody got me out my contract, I’m pressin' niggas
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| And who gon' check a nigga? |
| Huh, disrespect a nigga, hah
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| I be done left a nigga, huh, right where I met a nigga, hmm
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| Dump the extras out the clip for any extra nigga, huh
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| Law and Order with that bop, he a special victim
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| I pop three Percocets to sex them bitches
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| We sell bricks in my trap to bless the business
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| Water gun a whole crime scene, we wet the witness
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| Especially if them niggas look like they gon' get to snitchin', huh
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| R.I.P. |
| to Kobe Bryant, know the game gon' miss him, huh
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| He probably came helicopter avoid you lame niggas
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| I be done came at you, tried to shoot you in your face with it
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| I be done came on your bitch ass and her face with it, ooh
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| Freaky Kuz’ll fuck you up, I ain’t gon' play with it, huh
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| Red bandana my right leg, know I stay with it, mmh
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| Up and under, baseline, Doctor J with it
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| Pull up in a rental with the drank and the Dracs in it, huh
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| Was brackin' P’s, makin' choppers jump like a trampoline
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| Huh, tangerines, three hundred pills get you thirty keys
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| Mama mad at me 'cause she know her son stuck up in these streets
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| Hey, was brackin' P’s, makin' choppers jump like a trampoline
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| Huh, tangerines, three hundred pills get you thirty keys
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| Mama mad at me 'cause she know her son stuck up in these streets (Huh, hey) |