| I remember days when we got paid
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| Middle school, shootin dice
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| Thuggin in the eighth-grade
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| Lied about free lunch so I got it every day
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| Niggas said that I changed since I moved up mane
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| Been the same since the game
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| Switched up when I came
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| Hit the lanes then I bang my hits
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| Not a shame
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| You a lame and a drain
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| Washed up with a name
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| Yeah I really feel the pain when they talk about you mane
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| You the troop, boy salute
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| Ain’t nothing left the to prove
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| You the greatest and they hatin
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| Why they wanna take your food?
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| Boy these other niggas fu
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| Keep your eyes on your loot
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| Keep your hands on your girl and a nigga that’ll shoot
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| Now I gotta get it
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| I gotta get to the cake though
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| Niggas keep rapping and snitchin until the case closed
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| Bitch I’m out here workin I gotta get to the pesos
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| Memphis young nigga
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| We comin up bout to explode
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| Hit me on my line
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| She tryna meet at the Citgo
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| I don’t got no time the city really lit though
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| Yeah she looking fine and yeah she’s so thick, oh
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| I don’t waste time you know it keep ticking hoe
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| Wake up bitch
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| I’m smokin up every mornin
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| By the time that you yawnin, I’m goin straight to the hundreds
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| By the time that you joggin, I’m probably sittin in a office
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| Rollin up fat blunts just thinking bout the profits
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| And she don’t do this often
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| I know these hoes be lying
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| And she tryna intervene
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| Hold up, shawty rewind
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| Hold up, nigga recline up out my fuckin seat
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| You can’t ever sit here
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| Boy this shit for a king nigga |