| You thought we wasn’t gonna do it again nigga?
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| (We gotta do it again, y’heard?)
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| It’s history in the making baby
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| (Once again, historia)
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| Back to the motherfucking game!
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| Aiyyo it started from «The War Report», talked about the war we fought
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| Slime got locked and came home to «The Reunion»
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| Eight years later, new religion of communion
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| Channel 10, and once again keep your TVs on
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| YouTube distributed, iPhone equipped with it
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| MySpace can get with it, beef gone, did your bid
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| I mean digital, lifetime criminal
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| I feel invincible, I feel invisible
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| Cause you niggas can’t see where I come from
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| The diddy-dum, the gun where you run from
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| N.O.R. |
| basically with 'Pone make greatfully
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| Music, I think you dudes should be thanking me
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| The hole in the gap man, we done filled
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| And it’s only been a drought cause Primo chilled
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| But stick up kids still out to tax
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| And them damn gas prices need to fucking relax
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| «CNN», «CNN»
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| «CNN, we’re like the Grand Royal»
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| «CNN», «CNN»
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| «The Reunion, a brand new cut»
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| «CNN», «CNN»
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| «We're like the Grand Royal»
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| «On the microphone, word up»
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| Yeah, yo, see money is power, power put the fear in a nigga heart
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| A high school dropout but I’m mainly trigger smart
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| Einstein of the corner, I learned to cold trade
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| Low fade, half-moon park to get mo' paid
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| Take a walk with me, all white Air One Nikes on
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| Through the land of gun slingers and pipe dons
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| I’m parallel to hell with ice on, stones is canary
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| A thousand pennyweights of the Virgin Mary
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| I draw that big burner, might cause a solar eclipse
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| A true thug’s prophecy, money over a bitch
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| Get consignment on a ki', that’s hitting that hood lotto
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| Do right by your niggas, bet nothing but good follow
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| Tip your glass up, salute and have a toast to your enemies
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| Every nigga locked in the pen is a kin to me
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| Crowding at 9−5, I don’t need no problem with troopers
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| Cause they even do you dirty with money like Frank Lucas
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| The recession got niggas wilding out on the max
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| And the mediums in regular jails is cold facts
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| And niggas back home ain’t doing good either
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| They foreclosed on homes, no home grown neither
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| Now everybody hurting, walk around with the zombie face
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| Hit the marines or hit the army place
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| Aiyyo I bang Rugers, used to have a fetish for revolvers
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| Till I squeezed off the MAC-10, it made me heartless
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| Gang bangers love me, throw it up like they nauseous
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| Bitches say I’m gorgeous, now they say I’m lawless
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| I’m a true heat holder, gun toter, keep coca
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| And turn them feet skinny like Al Roker, yeah |