| See most of y’all sucka ass niggas
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| wouldn’t last a week in my hood if you was broke
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| And wouldn’t last a day if you had money
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| I seen grown men cry, grown men die, for the love of that money
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| In God we trust!
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| My trigger finger itchin', Palms itchin' too
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| We back-to-back in ghosts, playin' peek-a-boo
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| We went to war with Sosa over a brick or two
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| So for a hundred ki’s, think what my clique could do
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| I’m talkin' clappin' toasts, bullets’ll hit your roof
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| They hit his body he went in shock, no Pikachu
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| Niggas ain’t bout it they talkin' but really pick and choose
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| We on our second strike, we ain’t got shit to lose
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| All my niggas is felons, all you niggas is tellin'
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| Sold your soul to them people, they gon' get you to sell it
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| They gon' get you to move it, they gon' get you a buick
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| They gon' get you a wire, like niggas gon' use it
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| You gon' tell on your brothas, what a lame homie
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| I got a bullet with your name on it, and a full clip I autographed
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| Kids cryin' at the viewing, I guess it was upset
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| We done went to war with the realest, shot it out with the best
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| Talkin' high-end gorillas, banana clips make a mess
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| I seen young niggas cry, I seen young niggas fold
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| I seen young niggas die because a young nigga told
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| For the love of the money, for the love of the money
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| For the love of the money, love of the money
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| Man, them young niggas hungry, for the love of the money
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| I seen real niggas cry, I seen real niggas hit
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| I seen real niggas die, cuz a real nigga snitch
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| In God we trust
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| Lotta niggas act Tony-like
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| Told them deez everything you heard but that’s your homie right
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| But he got killers lurkin' outside at your home tonight
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| They gon' hit the crib and kill the kids, oh that’s Kony right
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| Oh that’s Kony-like, everybody bleed
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| Cuz he come out in 2060, Christmas Eve
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| First time he went to prison he ain’t get to leave
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| Feds takin' pictures, niggas is rats, you should say cheese
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| Once a local dude, shit the fire now
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| Never ever spit a rap but he got bars now
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| I’m talkin fed time, yard up, yard down
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| Baby mama can’t pay the bills, shit is hard now
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| How that make you feel, you should pay them bills
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| MA spittin in them trays when they make yo' meal
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| Niggas shittin' out them packs just to take them pills
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| And his baby mama brought em in, boy this shit is real
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| Niggas turn to Muslim, niggas turn to Christian
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| They gave him life, he try’n appeal it, got him on a mission
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| His homies ain’t learn, they still in the kitchen
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| They firin' bullshit, that coka ain’t swimmin'
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| It’s coming up short, no food on the fork
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| Niggas is catchin' cases, niggas is goin' to court
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| He done slaved in the field, you the one on the porch
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| With the gun in your hand, try and run with the man
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| Hey look, I’ma tell you like this
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| If you in school nigga, stay in school
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| If you got a job nigga, stay at work
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| If you a family man, stay with your muhfuckin' family nigga
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| Cuz this shit ain’t meant for everybody dawg
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| Everybody talk that shit, until they get caught up in some real shit
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| And then they start talkin' that shit |