| Griselda
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| Respect the scorpion, nigga
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| Ah
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| The butcher comin', nigga
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| Y’all know what it is, nigga
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| Black Soprano Family, nigga
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| Brrt
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| Gave niggas the benefit
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| Talked it out when I could’ve paid killers to finish it
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| Grave diggers that’s generous (Uh-huh)
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| From a corner store, now we made niggas with businesses
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| In courtrooms, I ate with them same niggas they mentionin'
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| My album, I wrote down cocaine dealin' definitive (Okay)
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| You had to play the game to really spit that articulate
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| The word about my name is I paint them pictures meticulous
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| And rode with a brick on the train, feelin' adventurous
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| Brought 'em fifteen thousand and got it all back
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| The money slow, I hit the bottom, I was down to a stack
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| I thought about it, took a moment, then rerouted my map
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| And moved my family out of town, in a condo off rap
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| Fuck a diss song, I wanna hear the sound of y’all gats (Shoot somethin')
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| Pound in y’all lap, ridin', dressed down in all black
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| And that gangster shit you warn don’t come out 'til y’all rap
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| And that old work you put in don’t count 'cause y’all rats, uh
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| Bimmer weavin' between cars, got me breathin' hard
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| Servin' clean, we dream large with uneven odds
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| It won’t ever inconvenience me to leave a broad
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| Sometimes you sever ties even if it leave a scar (True shit)
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| It’s gon' take a bank vault for that advance to suit me (Ah)
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| And I’ma buy Versace since they bannin' Gucci
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| In interviews they ask me questions and I answer truthfully
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| Fiend cooked that half for a can of beer and a loosie
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| I flood the streets with drugs and clock dollars
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| Get the cream with my team and I’m ghost
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| Only the real can relate- we get the money live
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| You know the rules to the game
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| I flood the streets with drugs and clock dollars
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| Get the cream with my team and I’m ghost
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| Only the real can relate- we get the money live |