| Tell me who you hang out with, I’ll tell who you are
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| Who are your friends?
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| Who are your buddies?
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| Who are your hood?
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| Who do you hang out with?
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| Who do you love hanging out with?
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| Where do you love hanging out?
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| Who are your friends, really?
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| A friend is a mirror unto you
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| If you were to look at your friend, you should see yourself
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| (It happened in 1947)
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| Don’t fuck 'round with my clique
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| My dogs, they off the shits
|
| Don’t fuck 'round with my clique
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| I’m always on the shits
|
| Don’t fuck 'round with my clique
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| We the realest ones out, point blank, period
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| We the ones who built the pyramids
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| We the ones who put in work
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| People say they coming for me and my spot
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| I can’t take 'em serious
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| I’m a Cash Money Records star and y’all delirious
|
| Me and Bird going to Mars
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| Smoking on moon rock we got from the stars
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| Some of y’all be so obsessed with yourself
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| That your ego the only thing large
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| I just pulled up to the coast
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| Mike got an eighth and we put it in raws
|
| Popping the bar with these rappers
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| I came a long way from just rappin' in bars
|
| Came a long way from the action and scars
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| I got the gas and I’m pushing the nozzle
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| Back in the day when I ran from the cops
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| No father figure, I looked up to Nas
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| No politicking, I lived with the gods
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| Now it’s me and my homies and Bird
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| Your bitch getting all the attention and you get the curve
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| Thankful I know when to swerve
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| I’m back from my hiatus
|
| I know we gonna answer people’s runs, they finna hate us
|
| I know some people talking 'bout my team like they done made us
|
| They must want meet they makers, I could deal with haters
|
| Just don’t fuck 'round with my clique
|
| My dogs, they off the shits
|
| Don’t fuck 'round with my clique
|
| I’m always on the shits
|
| Don’t fuck 'round with my clique
|
| Banging doors off the hinges, I don’t need permission
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| Lawyers calling me up daily, someone on a mission
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| I don’t owe you no commission
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| People swear that they on lifeline until you missin'
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| And everything start to lift off when you without 'em
|
| Now is that me dissing or is that the truth?
|
| I had some haters, shit
|
| Back in the day when I was just a child, a youth
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| Back when my smile was missing a tooth
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| Look at me mama, I made it from out of the struggle
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| And did this shit all out the booth
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| Someone gon' jeopardize it, tryin' to bring down the house
|
| I’ma put a shooter on the roof
|
| I’ma have guns hiding at the crib
|
| Take out everybody but the kid
|
| I want Taz’s Angels in the club
|
| I’m in 305, can I live?
|
| I just might pop me a Xan'
|
| I know that some people gon' hate it the second we drop
|
| But you know I’m the man
|
| And I got my team with me like we planned
|
| I’m back from my hiatus
|
| I know we gonna answer people’s runs, they finna hate us
|
| I know some people talking 'bout my team like they done made us
|
| They must want meet they makers, I could deal with haters
|
| Just don’t fuck 'round with my clique
|
| My dogs, they off the shits
|
| Don’t fuck 'round with my clique
|
| I’m always on the shits
|
| Don’t fuck 'round with my clique |