| Killa
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| Niggas try to show me and make history Arab
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| You try to shit on me and make history
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| You history!
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| You got to love the guy
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| In God I trust, he trusts in I
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| When I get high it feel like I (touch the sky)
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| And yeah I dress to kill
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| I make it so you dressed to die, bless the guy
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| If he try and take the stand and (testify)
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| Yeah buddy boy turn him into Buddy Lee
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| With four dirty niggas in some ugly tee’s (na-na-na)
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| And despite figures, you can’t fight triggas
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| Drunk off light liquor light niggas
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| In the wintertime but I got the drop warm
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| Snowin' out showin' out, the top gone (na-na-na)
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| I do what I have to do
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| They say «you little bastard you»
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| «Look man they all gonna laugh at you»
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| You wifed it in public
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| Fuck it, you like it, I love it
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| Butt disgustin', I’m disgusted, don’t wanna discuss it
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| Look me eye-to-eye, we could go eye-for-eye
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| But pardon, I’m puffin' on (la-la-la)
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| Reach out and (touch the sky)
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| Look up and (touch the sky)
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| Smoke a blunt and (touch the sky)
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| Can anybody (testify)
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| We just doin' what we usually do
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| Nah Cam, I can tell they ain’t used to you
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| Pounds on the floor, guns on the wall
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| If there’s money to make then I’m makin' a call
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| Blood on my chain, weed in the jar
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| Weed in the air, 2 pits in the yard
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| Handlin' biz, cameras all over the crib
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| You broke and can’t stand it
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| To count this much money you need enough stamina
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| Some went to Stanford, I grew up on Cam and them
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| Makin' this money and makin' it fast
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| Rollin' a joint and I’m makin' it last
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| Reppin' my Gang, ain’t no fakin' it
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| Drivin' my car like it ain’t got no brakes in it
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| Now both my cribs got a safe in it
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| Had my own swag, you start takin' it
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| Rollin' one up and I’m facin' it
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| Got so much juice you could taste the shit
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| Shout out to Juicy J
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| He rock them Louis shades
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| We all get stupid paid
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| I ball, let’s hoop today
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| Got one, need two of them rings
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| Look at me, see I’m doin' my thing
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| I’m just tryna up my sushi game
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| Old school shit, you’s a lame
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| Shit, I’m extra high
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| Fuck it, where’s the pesticides
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| Dibble out the bag, put the rest aside
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| Fonzarelli flow, the cool’ll never die
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| Ask me if i’m stoned, when am I ever not?
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| Rollin' up, you tryna hit this L' or nah?
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| Coped another Rollie, I was pressed for time
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| TNT pullin' up, but we don’t talk to swine
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| Send the corner pies, hustler since
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| Breakin' nights, blowin' blunts on Morningside
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| While you was in the nosebleeds at the Drake & Wayne tour
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| I was Hitler with the pounds, got like 8 off
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| Eatin', clean the plate off, cause they lost
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| First class nigga, make a flight before the takeoff
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| Fuck a label, 'less it’s Black Label
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| Indie nigga but I’m that major
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| It’s still fuck the other side, never lettin' nothin' ride
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| Roofless shit, roof the bitch, see if she can (touch the sky) |