| This is for my gangstas, real niggas, ballas, trill niggas
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| Northside, Southside, chunk ya deuce up
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| This is for my gangstas, real niggas, ballas, trill niggas
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| Eastside, Westside, chunk ya deuce up
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| Plenty niggas get they head turned red for the bread
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| Start off with the information, load it up in ya head
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| Couldn’t hold it, so it turned out its sumthin' he said
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| What he tell the FEDS (need someone to call)
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| Your decision was to snitchin' and they was there to listen
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| When he told what he know, said they barely was trippin'
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| Less time, now the niggas in a better position
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| Unless you count the fact that the streets know he was snitchin'
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| He was lookin at a 30 but he only did 10
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| How them years turn to months, can he tell you dat, and
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| He ain’t really gotta answer, just the sweat in his hands
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| Will he make it out to make it, hmmm well it depends
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| Everybody know the info you was tellin ya friends
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| Plus the streets know the deals that you made with the pen
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| Russian Roulette, yep nigga bet the barrel will spin
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| You hear that, yea nigga thats the sound of revenge
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| Walk down the right road
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| 'Cause the streets is so cold
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| You betta take ya life slow
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| Or you’ll miss it
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| Listen to the G-Code
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| If you know what I know
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| Then you’ll keep yo mouth closed
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| (Keep your mouth closed, nigga)
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| We don’t tolerate snitches
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| This is for my gangstas, real niggas, ballas, trill niggas
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| Northside, Southside, chunk ya deuce up
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| This is for my gangstas, real niggas, ballas, trill niggas
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| Eastside, Westside, chunk ya deuce up
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| If you gon live that crime life, I hope you hold dat 9 tight
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| You live life like a pussy then thats probably what you’ll die like
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| I neva eva loved a sucka, them ain’t really my type
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| Rats, snakes, yea mayne the game is full of wildlife
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| Don’t wanna do no time right?
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| You wanna live that high life
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| Like go withdrawl, have a hundred thousand in ya eye sight
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| Enter ya crib, see the clouds peepin' through ya skylight
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| You be a copycat, caught him right after my life, cause mine right
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| Thats what he told me but I didn’t listen
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| Doin crime for a dime wasn’t my intention
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| You insane, think his name sumthin' I will mention
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| Only snitches (need someone to tell)
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| Alotta niggas in the game, hustlin' doin they thing
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| Usin codes on the phone with unusual slang
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| If you know what he know then you won’t say a thing
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| You wouldn’t need someone to tell
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| Careful bout the life you lead, ain’t smart with ya life
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| You plead, the streets will ignite ya T
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| Like you ain’t got the right to breathe
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| (Cough) To choke on the realness
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| Reality is what the fake don’t know how to deal with
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| Words leak from the teeth, but he’ll say seal it
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| Then go get a undercover brother he can chill with
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| Find a nigga that be hustlin to make a deal with
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| But the streets will hold court for him and’ll deal with it
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| Walk down the right road
|
| 'Cause the streets is so cold
|
| You betta take ya life slow
|
| Or you’ll miss it
|
| Listen to the G-Code
|
| If you know what I know
|
| Then you’ll keep yo mouth closed
|
| (Keep your mouth closed, nigga)
|
| We don’t tolerate snitches
|
| This is for my gangstas, real niggas, ballas, trill niggas
|
| Northside, Southside, chunk ya deuce up
|
| This is for my gangstas, real niggas, ballas, trill niggas
|
| Eastside, Westside, chunk ya deuce up
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| This for the G’s, street jugglin, movin the fire
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| When you talkin' what you talkin' it ain’t through the wire
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| Police pull you over, now they callin' you a liar
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| You got amnesia, don’t even know the dude beside ya
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| You don’t know, you ain’t sayin, you ain’t heard what he said
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| Told you a closed mouth ain’t gon neva get fed
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| A open mouth’ll get you county instead of the FEDS
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| Some scared niggas speak up so they’ll be less in the red
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| Niggas can’t deal with no 9 to 5 so they day-to-day budgeters
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| Its the hustlers that get put away by the customers
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| You upstate, niggas use to be southerners
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| Here the streets make the laws and don’t answer the governors
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| We the niggas thats too real to snitch on a snitch
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| But make a snitch turn to poof with a flick of the wrist
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| That ain’t gon get in arguements, just go get you a clip
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| And they gon think about the consequences, let 'em repent
|
| Walk down the right road
|
| 'Cause the streets is so cold
|
| You betta take ya life slow
|
| Or you’ll miss it
|
| Listen to the G-Code
|
| If you know what I know
|
| Then you’ll keep yo mouth closed
|
| (Keep your mouth closed, nigga)
|
| We don’t tolerate snitches
|
| This is for my gangstas, real niggas, ballas, trill niggas
|
| Northside, Southside, chunk ya deuce up
|
| This is for my gangstas, real niggas, ballas, trill niggas
|
| Eastside, Westside, chunk ya deuce up
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| Man hold up, you a real nigga and you ain’t got nuthin to say
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| When they come question you, just keep it 100
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| And go ahead and chunk ya deuce up |