| Industry is saying that boy got skills
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| And the streets is saying that boy so real
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| Who that boy tracking that boy Chamill'?
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| Always give you somethin that boys gon' feel
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| «Try to give you somethin that you boys gon' feel»
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| Yeah!
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| Still in the streets, still sticking to the plan (plan)
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| All this ice on me, got a frosted out hand (hand)
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| White coloured Lam' lookin like a snowman (man)
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| Hundred karat chain, see the neck, they like «Damn»
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| Cheah, y’all know me
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| Eff the industry, I’m still the same old G
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| Serve to the streets till you lames O.D.
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| Mixtapes like crack, the next thang’s on me
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| Some of them be talking but snitch is what we call 'em (snitches)
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| I be gettin gwop way from Houston down to Harlem (Harlem)
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| We twenty deep if it’s a problem
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| Don’t want nothing truly cause they thinkin we gon' rob 'em
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| And you know how we be mobbin
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| Police lady talking bout the trouble that we causing (keep it moving)
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| You gon' have to keep it moving darling
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| And we gon' keep on doing what we doing and what we causing
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| Yeah! |
| Young Millionaire, they can’t deal with this swagger
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| Feel the banana, will squeeze the hammer
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| I see your forehead, it will see the handle
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| Will eat your money, will feed your ama-
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| amal, Rambo, I will enjoy
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| I am nutting if she’s slutty just like Almond and Joy
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| Programmed to kill, get beat, I destroy
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| Whatever to get the money, little duffle bag boy
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| Dope boy, gotta feel me, I’m real tight
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| Doing what I really say I do in real life
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| Cheque got the chain homie, this some real ice
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| A hundred and fifty K for it, that’s the real price
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| Bust it baby, wanna give me in her living room
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| Making music for the hustlers and the real goons
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| Let 'em know, album bout to hit 'em real soon
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| All you rappers gon' have to make a little room
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| I don’t know what the problem is, pockets thick as a hippopotamus (hippopotamus)
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| Breezy lookin in the dash of my drop top, tryna see what mileage is (the
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| mileage is)
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| She done flunked about fifteen somethin colleges
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| Your opinion is irrelevant as a XXL columnist
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| So tell that breezy she better be a skater (skater)
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| She’s best to get up out of here cause the pimp like me won’t date her
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| Uhhh, I’m a pimp, you the one that paid her
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| Pulling off in my scrape and it black on black like I’m Darth Vader
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| Hopped off the porch and homie didn’t like that
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| So now I roll solo and don’t even like cats
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| Chain lookin frozen, I’m showing a icepack
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| Loyal to the streets, I hand you the mic back
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| I put down my pistol and boy they get slapped
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| But it ain’t even fun cause I know he won’t fight back
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| Can’t leave the streets, they love me just like crack
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| I’m like Uncle Sam, yeah homie, I like that
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| Other rappers just be having million dollar thoughts
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| I’m a rapper that can pull a million out my vault
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| Do it like boss, don’t matter what the cost
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| White on white Phantom, sittin fat, I gotta frost
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| Nobody selling that, record labels falling back
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| Back off in these streets, show 'em how to get a stack
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| Show these other rappers and these fun trappers how to act
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| Throw-throw some D’s on it and put some more on top of that
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| She approached me, I ain’t approach her
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| I had a forty-ounce on my coaster
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| You know I want to hit that west coaster
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| Candy car blue, that’s the Hou on my roadster
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| And the same color on my low-low
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| Got a couple homies with that chronic for the low-low
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| For sho' though, and I ain’t with the snitchin, that’s a no-no
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| That’s why I’m riding solo and I’m lookin out for popo
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| I’m off the metre, they want me to let 'em know what’s the deal (deal)
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| Cause I’m a Texas player that’s only gon' keep it trill (trill)
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| You ain’t gotta look for no longer, the trill is here (here)
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| No need for falsifying, them fakers gon' disappear (disappear)
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| Probably shouldn’t give a trill rapper the mic
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| Cause he gon' kick that realness and trill ish that they like (like)
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| And the street credibility gon' match to the hype (hype)
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| Talking bout you keep it gangsta, only happens you might
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| I’m an N.W.A., no manners and bad grammar
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| Surrendering for what? |
| No waiving the bandanna
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| Tell the tool man how I handle the damn hammer |
| Try to punk me and I’m breaking that man camera
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| Just tell MTV to send a doctor the bill
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| And if the bill make it there, you’ll need a doctor for real
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| Keep a chopper on his seat to keep a watch on my wheels
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| Mashing in the Lamborghini like the cops on my heels
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| I ain’t even writing homie, I just press record
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| And all you say is great before I make it to the course
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| Hear your little voice tryna make a little noise
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| Till I let you little boys see my picture in the Forbes
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| Tell Forbes to get it straight
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| Cause they gon' have to account for what I do with the tapes
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| I never bounce a cheque, I don’t even bounce to the bank
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| G5 everywhere, get a million miles on a tank
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| Industry is saying that boy got skills
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| And the streets is saying that boy so real
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| Who that boy tracking that boy Chamill'?
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| Always give you somethin that boys gon' feel
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| «Try to give you somethin that you boys gon' feel»
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| Shawty rock to the beat for your boy
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| Shaw-ty, do it
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| Ay-ay, got a fleet full of toys
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| Whole bunch of blue whips
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| Gettin cheddar, cheddar, cheddar
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| I be gettin cheddar, cheddar, cheddar
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| You know I be grindin, grindin, grindin daily
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| Grindin, grindin, grindin daily |