| Hey yo, I grew up where it’s poverty struck, gotta be nuts
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| Tryna slide on us, the choppers a bust, body get struck
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| Shotty tucked, bakin soda just so my product can fluff
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| Breaking bricks down like karate was like a hobby to us
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| Woah… its like you pussy niggas ain’t learn
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| So imma show you how a bullet from the K burn
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| Homie fucked up his pack already, nah, say word
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| He broke early in the season, Gordon Hayward
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| Erry bar raw, its like eight birds
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| And I didn’t write a word
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| This shit is showtime like when Magic played Bird
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| You can’t relate if you ain’t never stood on a curb
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| Scrape the sides after I stretch it and get all the extras
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| Mac with the compressor sittin on the dresser
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| I’m applying all the pressure, I am the aggressor
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| Send my dog to, lay you on a stretcher
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| I don’t fuck with rappers, they can’t get a verse from me
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| Rocking Off White shit that Virgil sent me personally
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| I could sent a shooter through and have you merked for me
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| Niggas don’t want problems, they wanna work for me
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| Yay sit in the pan, Bape shit in Japan
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| If I know the nigga snake I don’t shake the nigga hand
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| I be going ape shit when this K sit in my hand
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| You’ll need an operation when I spray shit, nigga scram
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| I swear I’m in a hell of a zone
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| Flood the paddock with yellow stones, you can tell that I’m on
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| I ain’t drop an album yet but I’m a legend, it’s shown
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| Coulda been worse, I could be callin from the jail on the phone
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| Even when I’m by myself I got the strap so I ain’t never alone
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| Don’t make me hit you in yo head with this chrome
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| Ain’t a rapper on my level, it’s known
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| I mash the Ferrari pedal, I’m gone, Machine bitch, ahh! |