| SWAT’s, drop-tops and 'gnac
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| Lil-bitty killas on the block, cock back the gat
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| Can’t a day go by, one of these villains don’t die
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| Won’t try to fight this feelin', this concrete thang
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| It thrillin' niggas, it’s killin' for nothin'
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| Meanin', niggas is livin' for less, I guess
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| That I’m bring it to ya like it I S, the rest your 'sposed to know
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| See crime, that get’cha time, to the do' slick
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| When you hit 'em, get 'em
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| But keep yo' name up out they system
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| 'Cuz that there could sho' fuck up the rhythm of thangs
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| Called up, charge it to the game
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| No your sittin' downtown tryin' to explain
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| Simple-n-plain, but they ain’t finna be listenin'
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| You pre-trial detain to yo' co-sentencing
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| (Uh huh)
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| This situation keep ya tied in a knot
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| Lord have mercy on the SWAT’s
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| Lord have mercy on me
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| This is just how it’s gone be
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| Niggas dying daily on them same corner that pay me
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| But that’s the only chain I’m gon' see
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| Lord have mercy, on me
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| I’m doin' the best that I can
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| But it’s hard in my front yard
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| It’s do or die out here, ya understand?
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| I done seen these same, lil-bitty niggas squeeze
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| Lil-bitty triggers, now these
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| (Uh huh)
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| Lil-bitty niggas is, lil-bitty killers
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| (Uh huh)
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| Couldn’ta been no more than thirteen
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| (Uh unh)
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| Supplyin' fiends, shorties strictly stressin' dirty
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| (What?)
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| I sit on the porch and watch 'em flee from the police
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| But the nighttime blind, and ain’t no eyes on the streets
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| (Shh)
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| First law of the concrete
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| Better, never ever repeat, nothin' ya seen
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| (Uh unh)
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| He said he had to make a killin'
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| (Uh huh)
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| That’s how it go whodi, ride and take a livin' fo' sho'
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| He say he kill and kill again, he’ll kick in the do'
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| (Yeah)
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| Keep the lick, he trick a milli into mo'
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| (Yeah)
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| Nobody wit' him, he so low, when he creep through
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| (Uh huh)
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| Ride a glass Chevrolet, damn near see through
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| But they all fall 'cuz he learnt to walk
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| But he never learnt to crawl, have mercy, Lord
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| Lord have mercy on me
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| This is just how it’s gone be
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| Niggas dying daily on them same corner that pay me
|
| But that’s the only chain I’m gon' see
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| Lord have mercy, on me
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| I’m doin' the best that I can
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| But it’s hard in my front yard
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| It’s do or die out here, ya understand?
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| I get it in, I put the chamber under yo' chin
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| I play to win, stingy, I don’t have no air to lend
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| I’m standin' still, talkin' 'bout I’m grill
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| Cee-Lo Seville and steel real
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| Only millimeters away from my meal
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| Mighty knife, just enough not inconsiderate ice
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| You’re contemplatin', contestin', please consider it twice
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| 'Cuz I’m connected with the guy left after the drop of a dime
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| Or roll or roll down a bat, wonder what blow your mind
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| I’m heavyweight and Front Street Skeet
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| Got the snorters geeked-up and they keep runnin' back to the plate
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| We get it on, get it out the pot
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| Get on the block, and get it gone
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| Raised up out of the factories, and then we sit it chrome
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| Ya won’t show, get out doors even if it’s ice-cold
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| And slice O’s as the dice rolls, shit
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| And may Lord have mercy on your hustlin'-ass soul
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| Lord have mercy on me
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| I’m doin' the best that I can
|
| But it’s hard in my front yard
|
| It’s do or die out here, ya understand?
|
| Lord have mercy on me
|
| This is just how it’s gone be
|
| Niggas dying daily on them same corner that pay me
|
| But that’s the only chain I’m gon' see
|
| Lord have mercy on me
|
| I’m doin' the best that I can
|
| But it’s hard in my front yard
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| It’s do or die out here, ya understand? |