| Same motherfuckas told me stop showing love and look out for myself
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| Same ones keep calling asking me for favors
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| Same people tell me watch out for my jealous friends
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| Same motherfuckas I’m starting to think they haters
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| Pain come from up top like a migraine
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| Lately I don’t need no motherfuckin' pen or paper
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| Got yo bitch yellin' ouuu like an instigator
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| Got paper all different colors, I’m an illustrator
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| Mama said don’t speak unless it’s something nice
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| Alright Gucci shirt was 700, that was somethin' light
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| Been that nigga, guess the world just noticed overnight
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| ? |
| and Dre always believed when I got on that mic
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| Young as hell when I realized hoes was trife
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| Was young when my mans switched, my heart cold as ice
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| Bebe kid, used to race home on them stolen bikes
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| Finally got my bitch punching, you can call me Ike
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| She got booking in her bio, bitch what’s the price?
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| I ain’t finna fuss or fight, I’ll punch a flight
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| They say what’s done in the dark always come to light
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| I hope the never know how we played it the other night |
| Said this my last day smoking, I lied
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| Reminiscing about the pain when I’m closing my eyes
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| Fuck if a bitch choose me, I’m chosen by God
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| Run it up and stay strapped cause niggas hoping I die
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| These rappers fake gangstas, groupie hoes in disguise
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| All those other rappers' dickriding hoes is on mine
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| But when I smack the shit out you, hope you know they won’t slide
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| Put a couple in yo frame like you going to prom
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| In a rental with that ratchet like I’m going to prom
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| Nine times out of ten now you going to God
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| High as hell tripping doing doughnuts like a cop
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| Like a merry-go-round we got poles in the ride
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| She’s sprung, got her whipped like I broke in her ride
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| Get the neck, then I dip, no I don’t wanna buy
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| Used to fuck hoes without knowing they name
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| Now I need I all her info
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| Cause too much shit floatin' around
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| Cops took my .38, now I’m toting a nine
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| Fit right in my pocket, they won’t know it’s inside
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| Got my team on my back, feel like Kobe or Bron
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| Bad bitch at the crib, that’s one trophy of mine
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| I was told you shouldn’t bring every horse the pond |
| Cause niggas plottin' every day
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| One in the head, gotta cock it every day
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| Told it, «I can’t be without you», feeling like I’m Mary J
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| Niggas tryna get a dollar every way, it ain’t no rules
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| It ain’t the same, niggas cappin' over Protools
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| ? |
| I’m sorry, been a minute since I wrote you
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| But on my life you gon' have millions to come home to
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| He said, «This nigga coming home soon talking crazy cuz
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| Give me the word and I’m on him», I said fuck that
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| When he get out, let me get him, you stay out of trouble
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| It’s almost time I need my mothafuckin' cuz back
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| Until my nigga? |
| died, I was like fuck rap
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| Now every nigga in the city is a suspect
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| You know we keep them toys on us like the Rugrats
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| Put yo shit all on the wall like a thumb tack
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| They said stop showing love and look out for myself
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| Same ones keep calling asking me for favors
|
| Same people tell me watch out for my jealous friends
|
| Same motherfuckas I’m starting to think they haters
|
| Pain come from up top like a migraine
|
| Lately I don’t need no motherfuckin' pen or paper |
| Got yo bitch yellin' ouuu like an instigator
|
| Got paper all different colors, I’m an illustrator
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| She knew I had the juice but she wanted a different flavor
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| Came in the kitchen later checking her refrigerator
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| There’s thirsty hoes everywhere, I’m in a different mouth
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| Going crazy, all this fake love they dishin' out
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| Blowing loud, bitch I’m stoned like Squidward house
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| Girl step with yo bitch, dog I’m in and out
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| All these colors in my chain I feel like Mr. Brown
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| Watching Mickie Mouse, clutching on a Mickie Mouse
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| Rubbin' on my bitch ass, 'bout to dick her down
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| These bitches tryna trick a player like an end-around
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| I’m tryna put my hood on like the sprinkling on
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| Imma get to it as long as they keep printing paper
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| All different colors, I’m an illustrator
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| We on yo head, that bulletproof is not a difference maker |