| Walk up in your spot and block and turn it to a grave
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| Put them drugs up in my face and watch me turn into a slave
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| Every day, every chance I get I take on the stage
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| In my grave, either way I’m gettin' paid
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| Humans like to speak on me and put the smile up on my face
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| Ear to ear, I’m who they fear, they know I bloody up the place
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| Grip that pistol with precision, end up in court, yeah, all my bitches dead,
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| dead
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| Like I’m filmin'
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| «Ooh, ooh,"what they singin'
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| BONES keep kickin', fuck it up, rippin', got time to show no sympathy
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| Men in Black, don’t remix it, I want him to remember me
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| Punch into a different beat, the dead is in the infantry
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| I’m spittin' like an infant, baby, AK on my hip, it hit
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| This old CD on my hip, bitch, I don’t stop until I hit
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| Them forty-six's on me flip and now everybody but fifty
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| So here, I went in by your bed, I need to simmer down
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| Sittin' on it, come with me, we can hear that pistol sound
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| Sittin' on it, come with me, we can hear that pistol sound
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| Sittin' on it, come with me, we can hear that pistol sound |