| Sometimes the road get vicious on the road to riches
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| Fake cats will sell their soul for these hoes and bitches
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| We life the, mafia life, exposin' snitches
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| Have a bitch get you hit and then blow you kisses
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| When the street lights come on that’s when the guns come out
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| And you know who’s really real, when them funds run out
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| When the street lights come on that’s when the block get hot
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| I got a call from the city, said a cop got shot
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| They say, time is money, so I copped that watch
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| Been stashin' dough, in my shoe box since Pac got shot
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| Now, I’m havin' money like Bill Gates, it feel fake
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| Wake up, blow a couple hundred and I’m still straight
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| Feel like I’m dreamin', but reality is
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| Half these dudes wouldn’t believe what my salary is
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| They say my name out in Houston when they movin' them units
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| 'Cause they know who was the truest to do this
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| Rip Niice, a real legend who influenced my music
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| A couple years passed they still tryna copy the movement
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| Still remember them late nights in the A, up in mansion
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| Hoes dancin', packs movin', we bringin' bands in
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| Couple stripper hoes, countin' money, sniffin' blow
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| Ready to die about mine, I’m on that Biggie flow
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| Tropical islands, private chefs, we eat right
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| Ridin' dirty
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| Under the streetlights
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| We cop dope at a cheap price
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| And live a life you won’t see twice
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| Underground legends in the street life
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| Rollie shinin' on the wrist, we tryna eat right
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| That’s what it be like, under the street lights
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| We cop dope at a cheap price
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| We cop dope at a cheap price
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| And live a life you won’t see twice
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| Underground legends in the street life
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| Rollie shinin' on the wrist, we tryna eat right
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| That’s what it be like, under the street lights
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| A hundred-pack in the back of the whip, watchin' Paid in Full
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| At the crib got me back on my shit
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| I turned nothin' into somethin', yeah, I mastered the gift
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| Laid the blueprint, how to cop, package and ship
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| Got the rollie in the cut now, wrist all bust down
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| Cookies worth millions, dope comin' by the truck now
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| Followed my dreams when they told me it was impossible
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| A job was illogical, being broke wasn’t optional
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| Lookin' at life from my rear view, tree blowin'
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| Voices in my head sayin' stop, but I keep going
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| There’s money on me whatever it is I double that
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| Keep some shooters with me
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| Then circle round and double back
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| Crazy to think I lost homies over a couple stacks
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| It wasn’t meant to be it just show you where the love was at
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| I was gettin' money in the trap, where the plug was at
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| Anythin' touchin' out of state I was pluggin' that
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| Weed strain kingpin, flow like coke too
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| Money comin' in, gotta watch those I’m close to
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| Under the streetlights they’ll kill you for a gram or less
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| They say the secret to life is how you handle death
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| Cuban cigars, smoke blowin' out the sunroof
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| All this money on me, got me feelin' like I’m gunproof
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| Let one off, then reload
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| The streets know, you won’t last long if you ain’t livin' by the street code
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| We cop dope at a cheap price
|
| And live a life you won’t see twice
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| Underground legends in the street life
|
| Rollie shinin' on the wrist, we tryna eat right
|
| That’s what it be like, under the street lights
|
| We cop dope at a cheap price
|
| We cop dope at a cheap price
|
| And live a life you won’t see twice
|
| Underground legends in the street life
|
| Rollie shinin' on the wrist, we tryna eat right
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| That’s what it be like, under the street lights |