| Old dro bottles, and blow, blowin' from both zones
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| Layin' in them Tahoes we own the projo’s
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| Three for tenement we in the lobby with the big
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| (da dun dun dun) Don’t move cause I’m a representative
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| Live for the street, ask, you die in the war
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| 'member that -- blast that three atcha -- hide in the wall
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| We gangsta, republicans with them big things, big rings
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| Get your head shot off, daddy you don’t believe chains
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| Loose cameras, big hammers, Station Wagon, blue Phantoms
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| Smokin' the block up, y’all witness the zoo gamblers
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| We ain’t takin' no shorts, its just the early 80's
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| That made me, now I sit paid and then maybe
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| Nothing but my Lords and raps, these bags of dope
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| Under the mattress and I clack like a slave key
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| Wash your squad up, I roll double refuse to rock
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| Closed up my door up and murked you on the job (aww)
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| Gettin' money like back in the days
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| Niggas like shower posse in a spectacular drug games
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| Slayin' niggas, steady sprayin niggas, till the task forces’ll roll up
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| In unmarked vehicles and will be layin' niggas
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| Streched that coke and see it come back triple
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| When we O.T. |
| cut it with baking soda or quinine
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| Strategize, gettin' paper like the Chinese, Jamaicans
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| And George Chain niggas, and watch me set up a Goldmine
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| We got guns tucked in our waistlines with rags hangin' from our back pockets
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| Miraculous money, nigga, can’t stop it
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| Sherlock Holme' Kangols
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| Medallions so big, attach strings you could turn 'em into banjos
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| Phenomenal profiting, drug money
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| Scram rapper, my 100EX golden like a honey graham cracker
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| Sidewinda, niggas tryna' infiltrate, blind-side a nigga
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| Hit you with the 8, we in the club
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| Dumbin' out, drunk in fronta the airbrush
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| Backdrop, ones out, fi'-dollas for picture with the guns out
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| Juggle for a couple days, close shop
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| Then continue to bubble until the strip hotter than a microwave
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| Don’t stop, travel on my spare time
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| And keep niggas wit us to push our shit like George Jefferson hairline
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| No frill, niggas better go chill
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| 'Fore this gun go up in your nose like coke sniffin' up your nose-stril
|
| Gettin' money like back in the days
|
| Niggas like shower posse in a spectacular drug games
|
| Slayin' niggas, steady sprayin niggas, till the task forces’ll roll up
|
| In unmarked vehicles and will be layin' niggas
|
| Streched that coke and see it come back triple
|
| When we O.T. |
| cut it with baking soda or quinine
|
| Strategize, gettin' paper like the Chinese, Jamaicans
|
| And George Chain niggas, and watch me set up a Goldmine
|
| Ay yo, saluteme kid, coop me in the red room booth
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| And eatin' Fruit Loops it’s all for the loot boo
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| Designated hammer that’ll lay ya up scrambling
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| Blant ninjas get 'em more popped up, and start blowin' niggas magnums up
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| Caught me in the mix wit some rich soldiers, that reaction
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| Is a key action, black sent forty doja’s up
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| We huddle in big plans, my big mans and them
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| Slick as the shit breaks from outtas you, rip dip, then quakes them
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| See I was always good at science, in the class I was dope
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| Ask 'em for the chemistry temperature now I’m cookin' the coke up
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| Used to sit and watch them older niggas for hours
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| And did acknowledge to how cold water quickly harden the powder
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| Took your turn into somethin big to acredit (uhh)
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| But ya needs connect shit up from South America
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| Money calculations, told B.I.G. |
| I sit up on it still
|
| Holdin old hundred dollar bills, wit small faces
|
| Gettin' money like back in the days
|
| Niggas like shower posse in a spectacular drug games
|
| Slayin' niggas, steady sprayin niggas, till the task forces’ll roll up
|
| In unmarked vehicles and will be layin' niggas
|
| Streched that coke and see it come back triple
|
| When we O.T. |
| cut it with baking soda or quinine
|
| Strategize, gettin' paper like the Chinese, Jamaicans
|
| And George Chain niggas, and watch me set up a Goldmine |