| Get, that, dough
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| Still huggin the strip
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| Get, that, dough
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| Get the dough nigga (that dough)
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| Uhh uhh, Sig' get, that, dough
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| Uhh. |
| yo, uhh. |
| yo (get, that, dough)
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| I’m sick of niggas talkin bout they whips — when they bustin 'em out
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| Summertime come around, don’t nuttin come out
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| Snappin on they bitch, cussin her out
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| Mad cause they crack, ain’t no crack, they sufferin a drought
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| Man you know how Mac play when I sling my butter
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| Take my show state to state like the Ringling Brothers
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| Keep clowns high-wired off the shit I juggle
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| F.B.I. |
| eyes spyin from the shit I smuggle
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| Keep the trunk of the car lined with coffee grounds
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| The cops pull us over it throw off the hounds
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| Got a bitch that let me stash shit in the crib
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| Break her off, every week, to fix up her wig
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| Man I stay on a mission with whores (shit)
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| Cause I get down, and «Get Around,» like the late Mr. Shakur
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| Stay in the kitchen with raw
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| I’m the shit when I whip, I always turn two into four
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| Yo, get your mind right, get your grind right
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| Til you get the shine right and get, that, dough
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| Stay on the low-low, duckin the po'-po'
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| Tuck in the fo'-fo' and get, that, dough
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| You get your team right, and that’s the green light
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| To cut your cream right and get, that, dough
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| It won’t stop y’all, until I drop y’all
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| I’mma hug the block y’all and get, that, dough
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| Yo, aiyyo I got plenty dough, but there’s more to make
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| And I’m the chef, I bake, I don’t order cakes
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| If I’m short, shit you caught a break
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| I can make twenty look like twenty-eight off of water weight
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| I’m the shit when I’m twistin my wrist
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| In the kitchen with that thang that got fiends skitzin to hit
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| From the drugs that I drug in, the NARCs be buggin
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| I keep my eye on the block and a pie in the oven
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| Smokers come straight, I ain’t breakin off nuttin
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| Got two thirty-eights, I can break off a dozen
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| You know how Mac play, when it come to that yea
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| I got 'em locked up on the block like it’s crack day
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| I fucks with the pipers, ducks from the bikers
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| Punks on the righteous, bust at the sheisters
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| Stay in the kitchen with a block of raw
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| Razor blade play partner straw, yo
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| Yo, yo, aiyyo I cops that coke, cooks that coke
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| Chops that coke and give out perks work
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| Makes that dough, gets them ends
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| How you want it dog, pipe or syringe?
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| Aiyyo I hit the block quickly, and lick up a fifty
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| Tear the highway like Freeway Ricky
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| Spit it my way and pop shit sickly
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| Til the Feds come and get me or the lead bullet hit me |