| Bitch, what’s the problem
|
| Fuck you talking 'bout my nigga, I got 'em
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| I got 'em
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| Bitch, what’s the problem
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| Fuck you talking 'bout my nigga, I got 'em
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| Need I remind 'em, they must’ve forgotten
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| Fuck this bitch up from the top to the bottom
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| Kill 'em all 'til they decaying, they rotting
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| Whip shit I can’t pronounce, just know it’s foreign
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| Spaceship outside and the fiber is carbon
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| I’m making 'em sick again, bitch get here, vomit
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| Fuck
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| Bitch, what’s the problem
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| Fuck you talking 'bout my nigga, I got 'em
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| Me taking Ls while talking so uncommon
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| Shit hide their shit before my niggas rob 'em
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| You better off dead or probably playing possum
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| And stay on the ground 'cause there’s no better option
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| Then fuck up this bitch with another concoction
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| Clear up the block with a blare from a shotgun
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| Bitch, what’s the problem
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| Fuck you talking 'bout my nigga, I got 'em
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| Clown niggas from miles away, we still spot 'em
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| Man, fuck around and end up on a milk carton
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| Nigga wondering who shot him
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| Grave located, don’t post your nigga garden
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| Pop niggas up, now watch my way I rock 'em
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| I chop a brick up now watch how they gon' cop 'em
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| I mop the clique up on top of how I flop them
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| Get got in your gut no matter how I drop 'em
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| Plot against us now watch how we just stop 'em
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| What we s’posed to do? |
| Nigga from the bottom
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| Plant the money tree and get the money when it blossom
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| How the fuck is they gon' stop him
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| Clout thirsty niggas on the gram, we block 'em
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| Pull up and watch the way the bitches flockin'
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| Flocka! |
| Waka Flocka!
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| Most you niggas really ca-ca (And)
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| Get the passing, meet (And)
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| Bitch you know I keep the choppa (And)
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| Every single time I pop 'em (And)
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| Pop 'em make the ratchet pop-pop
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| Pop-pop-pop-pop
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| I make that ratchet pop-pop
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| Think you niggas can fuck with my clique I say «Oh no-no»
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| How could be better, nigga could be never heard of, no
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| Fuck the building up, promoters screaming out «Oh no-no»
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| Until they shut us down, they got every hood fiending like «Oh no»
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| Bitch, what’s the problem
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| Fuck you talking 'bout my nigga, I got 'em (Watch how I)
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| Wack 'em and I sock 'em
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| Outer space with it how I Mr. Spock 'em
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| And cop me a planet, fuck it up like Saturn
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| Batmobile whipping, pulling up to Gotham
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| sipping, counting blood with Pac-Man
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| Gotta chill, bitches know I beg your pardon
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| Bitch, what’s the problem
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| How’d you fuck it up my nigga, I got 'em
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| Y’all niggas know that what we do is awesome
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| You better off leaving, purchase you a coffin
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| You gon' thank me in the morning
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| You know that I keep shooting, the gun barrel scorching
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| Lay you to rest and spin the Wheel of Fortune
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| Do shit that keep all of you niggas talking
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| Bitch, what’s the problem
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| Fuck you talking 'bout my nigga, I got 'em
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| Fuck shit up here and all the way to Scotland
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| And broke him up with the, we gon' pop him
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| And talk my shit clear, well let me speaker knock him
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| Motherfucker got him flockin'
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| I talk to the streets to be my final calling
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| Walk and go sleep, that be your final warning
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| Fl-Fl-Fl-Fl-Flocka! |
| Wacka Flocka!
|
| Most you niggas really ca-ca (And)
|
| Get the passing, meet (And)
|
| Bitch you know I keep the choppa (And)
|
| Every single time I pop 'em (And)
|
| Pop 'em make the ratchet pop-pop
|
| Pop-pop-pop-pop
|
| I make that ratchet pop-pop
|
| Think you niggas can fuck with my clique I say «Oh no-no»
|
| How could be better, nigga could be never heard of, no
|
| Fuck the building up, promoters screaming out «Oh no-no»
|
| Until they shut us down, they got every hood fiending like «Oh no-no» |