| New shit
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| WSUP!
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| WSUP!
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| WSUP!
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| Stop, chill, relax, and let this nigga Sigel flow
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| I know you can’t believe the flow, you can’t cope I flow dope
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| Like a key ya blow
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| You like naw, Beans, same nigga from 21st and Sigel street
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| When it’s beef people let them desert eagle speak
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| So whoever, wherever I don’t care where we meet
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| Stop, chill, don’t talk shit sideways outta your mouth
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| I will slap spit sideways outta your mouth
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| Bitch niggas talk indirect it don’t matter
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| When you got snitch niggas right in your set
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| That’s why I know where you niggas sling coke and pump D at Same spot that you liable to see me at Gun and a mask, one in the stash where the seed at Stop, all my young bucks huggin the block
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| Stop puttin drugs in your sock
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| You makin it easy for the cops to catch you
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| They hooked to that stash and that trash and that bag of pretzels
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| You gotta hustle smarter than that
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| Cop coke harder than that, keep your dough apart from your crack
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| Keep a stash in the dark for the trap
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| Man you never know when the narks gon launch an attack
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| HOOK: repeat 2X
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| Stop, I know you cats livin a lie
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| You niggas rats you aint willin to die
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| Chill, I spit it for my niggas keepin it street
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| Keepin they steel, all my niggas keepin it real
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| It’s still vex in the game tryin na earn respect
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| I got the best of out and y’all aint heard shit yet
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| You can shuffle up the cards I’ma learn the deck
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| When I do the game is mine, man I’m aimin high
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| Niggas talk about guns don’t be carryin none
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| Every two hammers I cock I’m buryin one
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| I’ma dress in all stash this year, whenever I’m near
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| From the First Union, to Madison Square
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| Stop, chill, cuz I know y’all niggas like Mac fuckin that track
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| Let me show you somethin dog it aint nothin for Mac
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| It come all natural like I’m bustin my gat
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| Or I’m stuck in a spot crushin the crack
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| Got ice in a pot, fluffin the crack
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| Takin backs to the block so don’t stuff in them packs
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| Doin life on the Roc aint nothin fuckin with that
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| Me, jail, dog, you can put me under the ground
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| Where I’m from all my niggas they from under the ground
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| You can hear us when we come it’s a thunderous sound
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| Trees, stompin, Roc jeans and a bunch of white T troopers
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| Stay on post with they toast and they like to shoot you
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| Philly cats no rack, big guns and Sumas
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| HOOK 2X |