| Niggas wanna tell it, hoes wanna gossip
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| Niggas wanna tell it, hoes wanna gossip
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| Niggas wanna tell it, hoes wanna gossip
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| No introductions needed boy just call me the undefeated (BIG)
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| And underneath this Georgia drawl, I know I can’t be seen with
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| Bifocals because my vocals are classic
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| Like Coca-Cola when they had cocaine in the package
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| I meant to say blow in the ingredients
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| I went to the mall today and all the niggas had on smediums
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| Little bitty ass clothes
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| Like Dancing with the Stars without the judges or the dance flo'
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| Oh and niggas don’t dance no more, all they do is this
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| Beef it up, call me venus fly trap, waiting on fly emcees to eat em up
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| I’m fly as I can be, them weak as fuck
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| And ain’t no keeping up, I’m balls deep and them ain’t deep enough
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| Fat stacks, Cadillac killer, cataract prescription filler
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| I got my medicinal card from Los Angeles, the city of lost angels
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| A connoisseur of cannabis and from Atlanta bitch
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| We never shop with strangers, no matter what strain they slanging
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| Some of the game rules done changed
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| Niggas is out here talking like a cockatoo to a cop or two
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| Now they watching you and your Mama too, bird’s eye view, view
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| Uh I’m getting blowed on the regular
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| Riding and talking dirty on my cellular
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| Playa, I got some young girls that’ll sell you some
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| And if you my homeboy, she gon' give you some
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| And it’s all for the paper but she still gon' cum
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| You dipping in the cookie jar and now you’re sprung, uh
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| I’ll have you tripping like you smoking furl
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| Playa my hoes don’t talk, anybody gon' tell your girl
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| Okay, now niggas wanna tell it, hoes wanna gossip
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| Cause they pussy wasn’t hitting and they lip was super sloppy
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| Suck a, duck a mothafucka, rims chop, Lorena Bobbit
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| Want my money corner pocket, plenty game ho
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| Sop it like a biscuit, King of Diamonds, king of tricking, what’s the
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| difference?
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| Got it popping like a skillet with some chicken grease in it
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| Country boy, I’m country raised, from the belly to the grave
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| Word to Pimp nobody tripping 'cause the money already made Krizzle
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| Man, I hate it all the time, I got haters in my biz
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| Talking bout the trill but don’t know what the fuck it is
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| Mothafuckas nowadays are seriously sorry
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| Thinking that the key to life is putting your business on Maury
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| You say you rocking Mauri but that motherfucker Rockport
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| Always talking bout you bust it but your Glock short
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| I know the truth so ain’t no need in your lying
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| Bullshit ain’t working, ain’t no need in your trying
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| Dying to be the nigga that’s spied in the telescope
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| Crime with trilla niggas, put iron to your belly folks
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| Telling them tall tales, fibs, and humdangers
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| Save it for Jeremy Kyle, Steve, or Jerry Spranger
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| Buzzing like a bee, tryna stick me with your stanger
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| You can get the middle, what middle, the finger
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| Stick it in your ass and let it linger
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| No homo and hit the high note like and R&B singer on promo |