| If you’re down to glide and slide on the Clair, then let’s ride
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| Tony Tone roll with Bone on the dark side
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| But when you come just bring your guns witcha
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| If your a busta niggas gone have fun witcha
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| So nigga don’t get me wrong, my niggas
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| Swang them thangs, bang some brains
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| Slangin' yayo, it all remains the same
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| Step and you’ll catch some buck shots
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| Murder one on the Clair my glock glock
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| Mo thugs whats up nigga get dropped
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| Put 'em in the mud, pop and I can’t stop now
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| Nigga that I thug wit' kill
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| Pop to tha chest how does it feel
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| And nigga we peel caps
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| Pap, fit to get your wig cracked back
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| Killin' I’m buckin em down, I wish ya would
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| Try to get some, redrum, bitch
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| Nigga don’t test my hood
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| A first degree murderin' wig splitta, grave digga
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| Diggin' a ditch, puttin' a bitch
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| And them snitches in the pit, so don’t fuck with
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| Them niggas off the 9 9
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| The foundation of niggas commitin' a crime is murderin' every time
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| Nigga beware cuz here come the Clair
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| Mobbin' like them soldiers
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| Watch me fold ya
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| For actin' like somebody never told ya
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| So off we go, to the bloody row
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| Tryin' to blood some souls, with that nine shot
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| Givin' props to the double glock
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| Pump pump when I let my shell down
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| Hit a nick nack gimmee the goodies and nigga me dash
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| Ya reach for the gauge and mash
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| Yell out 187 and blast
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| Nigga don’t test nuts your luck’s fucked
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| You feelin' up right for the bone yard
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| Thuggin' off with the graveyard shift
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| Then comin' up blow your whole card, bitch
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| Scandalous niggas, dwellin' the Clair be servin' them chop chop’s
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| We rippin' them guts with buck shotz, pop pop
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| You better be ready for this thug style
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| Krayzie, Layzie, Bizzy, Flesh with them wicked now
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| We straight up the glock glock
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| Well don’t get your wig’s split now
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| East 99 follow me down the strip as we trip to the darkside
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| Betta grab your pop, niggas be
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| Trippin' and flippin' as soon they get out
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| 187 you’re caught in a murder
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| Niggas up to no good
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| Uh oh, fuck no
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| They never could fuck with a thug ho
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| Pop pop givin up shotz to tha double glock glock
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| Nuthin but them killas, straight up thuggas
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| Rippin bucks up bloody clothes
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| Gaugin' bloody watch this nickle trippin' shot and fuck 'em down
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| Buckin' them coppas down
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| Round after round after round
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| Bloody bodies badges spread out on the ground
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| Ain’t no sound, just them demons screamin' rest in peace
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| I guess you got ta suffer
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| Ready to pip hollow point tip, got your wig split
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| They made your body
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| Once you hunt my victims on a mission
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| Flippin' livin' on a darker side
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| Creepin' on your homicide
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| Let my nuts and my gauge hang low now walk on by,
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| Boogie Nikke’s on a night ride
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| Thuggin through my thuggish ass hood at night, with my pipe
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| Thuggin down the double glock
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| Tryin' to get my serve on
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| Watchin' my back while six-five try to roll on
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| But one to the suckas head and two up in his body
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| Now peep my creep I eat the reefer smoke all up inside me
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| We jumpin' up rough from the hood
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| We bailin' we thuggin' we lookin' like crooks
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| Could tell we be fatal, ready to roll
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| Know we willing and able
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| Rollin' with Ruthless bitch betta check my label
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| Murda dem, never come again
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| When the scandalous niggas set up
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| Bloody nigga trues be on my level
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| Eighty eight and ten five is the soldiers ghetto
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| Nigga don’t take the wrong turn
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| or you will enter the hood and were spittin
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| so cover your dome
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| At a cut where the thugs and hustlas roam
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| Cleveland Browns
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| Dogg Pound hoes, it’s on
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| Let’s begin in the mix, of a Clair player
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| You’re liable to get your wigs split and dumped in a ditch bitch
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| Cause them thugs, sendin' them slugs
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| Leavin' em off in the cut in a puddle of blood say what
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| Don’t make me go in my trench
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| Nigga ya got me bent
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| All fucked up, your luck’s up, you gotta get sent
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| To your gravesite as John Doe for fuckin wit those…
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| It’s them thugs runnin' amuck,
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| on none but a slug all up in the territory
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| Never divide, go nationwide with the buck buck
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| So where you at where you at
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| I’m strapped and ready ta snap n yank a nigga’s neck back
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| puttin em Koolaid hats
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| In ta the graveyard
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| Pumped up betta get down
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| Thugs’ll be glad ta tear around
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| Foe sombody gets fucked
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| Ya still don’t want some bitch but what the muthafuck I wanna
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| Wham ya wit a tec-9
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| Now bitch press yo luck
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| Pop pop givin up shotz to tha double glock glock |