| We be the live ones
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| You dont wanna try son
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| Cause the rhyme come
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| Like a nine gun
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| You can die young
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| Hide lungs
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| Til the seventh sign come
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| Shine son like a diamond
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| I’m harder than one by one
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| Flew flicker, Crew licker
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| Shoot quicker, Loot getta
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| You can’t handle this cause im the truth nigga
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| The haze puffa, Stage crusher once the wave crush ya
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| ??? |
| while im fuckin ya baby motha
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| The back of my right mind terror lines
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| Devil stays higher than the crime rates
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| At Five Burrous
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| You spit yo best shit
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| I spit mines an get arrested
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| Murder one rhymes killin shit write yo death wish
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| Well its the herb wanter shotgunner
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| Hot like summer
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| Parked like a Hummer
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| Off the hook like no other
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| Scale triple stage went from Marcy figga nigga
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| Bigger than most but still look at where stick up
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| Dutch smoker, Blunt smoker flippin like a broker
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| Dope when I pull it quick to draw like poker
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| Ho getter go getter like my dro wetter
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| Trunk full of kill we could all smoke together
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| If you got a hundred dolla bill throw ya hands up
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| If you ain’t afraid to peel throw ya guns up
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| All my niggas smokin to kill throw ya blunts up
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| Roll em up, Throw em up
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| Roll em up, Throw em up
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| Hey yo we build to destruct with the raw un-cut shit
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| Us spit rhymes tight like hancuffs get
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| Niggas say they on some I dont give a fuck shit
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| Bust chicks, Bust clips
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| Like they can’t get touched with
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| Well its the party rocka, poon rocka not Silkk Shocker
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| Put Master the P in an airport locka
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| Wife, Daughter macka, Behind that ass slappa
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| We open up the show like niggas typical roster
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| Niggas can’t see us cause they station ain’t adjusted
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| Destined to be burried in gold like King Tut did
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| Niggas rhymes is ass cause they full of enough shit
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| Need to bow down an pray while the god touch this
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| Hey yo fuck lyric for lyric lets go show for show
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| Give us 45 minutes Channel Live takes all ya doe
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| We got the live show strap sacks of hydro
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| Never bring sand to the beach hide ya ho
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| Dont let the god blast
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| Here with the math illegal broadcast
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| Spit something way outta line an make ya car crash
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| Rhymes comin fast like the first time I saw ass
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| Make a nigga jaw clash
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| Tryin to steal my raw ash
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| Now its the legal broadcast
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| Lightin it down like calm cash
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| With the Henny and Bomb Hash
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| Hot flash, When she let me palm ass
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| Imma long ass let me hit that ass sprung fast
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| Hey yo we settin niggas up like when the 3 strikes law passed
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| Write deep scrpits and prophicies like a the law has
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| We bringin fire like the cops guns draw fast
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| Dope rhymes I stop guns like Utah has
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| Well its all about the ass, cash and last clash
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| My niggas got flags on poles half mad
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| For Loumia, Diallo, Rodney King, to my nigga Rallo
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| If they follow, Hit they ass up like tips hollowed |