| One dark night I need some ends
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| I got a spot cased out I’m breakin in I gotta cutter that’ll cut thru ya window like butter
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| Suction cup, window up Now I’m on the inside lookin for some loot
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| 38 special I don’t wanna have to shoot
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| I ain’t no young, raw fresh recruit, uhh
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| Steel tote boots, black khaki suit
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| A real quick search and nobody’s home
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| just like I planned, now I’m home alone
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| I hope ya don’t mind if I use tha phone
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| and fix me sometin to eat before I’m gone
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| I got the servant and the china, deuce-five and the 9
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| Rolex off the desk so I can tell the time
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| No one knows where the flow goes when the 'dults crow
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| you better take some no doughs
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| Now I’m out tha back with a sack fulla goods
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| throw it in the truck, take it back to the hood
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| Let me be brief, I’m on the creep
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| I stole the sounds out’cha jeep, it takes a thief
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| Oh yeah! |
| It takes a thief
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| Yeah yeah! |
| It takes a thief
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| It takes a motherfuckin thief! |
| It takes a thief
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| Keep both eyes open when you go to sleep
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| Oh yeah! |
| It takes a thief
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| Yeah, yeah! |
| It takes a thief
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| It takes a motherfuckin thief! |
| It takes a thief
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| Keep ya hand on your gun when I’m on the creep
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| I need a lick real quick-like
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| My mind ain’t wrapped tight
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| I scale like Mike Tys so call this fright night
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| You don’t wanna see me comin down the street when I’m broke and it’s dark
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| So run your motherfuckin pockets 'fore they find your ass dead in the park
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| Put your hands behind your head and interlock your fingers
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| No I ain’t the cops, I just want your rings
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| and your wallet and your watch and your fat gold chain
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| Don’t try nuttin strange or I’m blowin out’cha brains
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| I rob from the rich so I can get rich
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| I ain’t got shit so I take what I can get
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| I need my mail, my snaps, my dollars, my ends
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| my grip ain’t high enough so I’m robbin on my friends
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| Somebody out there’s out to get me The smaller the nigga, the bigger the gat be I don’t give a fuck about your pain and your grief
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| You shouldn’t of fell asleep, it takes a thief
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| There’s a buster on the West Side, I heard he gotta grip
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| and he’s outta town on business so I’m schemin on his shit
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| I heard he got kis and Gs and deeds
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| and guns and big trash bags full o’weed
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| I stole a brand new fresh shaft telephone van
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| so now I guess I’m the telephone man
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| The bathroom window ain’t got no alarm
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| I gotta skelton brick that works like a charm
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| It didn’t take long to find what I was lookin for
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| I was damned near finished when I heard a key in the door
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| I jumped in the closet and checked my clip
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| Pulled my ski mask down, I can’t believe this shit
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| I counted to five and the front door opened up I counted three more and the front door was shut
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| I counted five more to give me some space
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| then I jumped out the closet and bucked him in the face
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| I loaded up the van in broad daylight
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| cos Looky Lou’s have their high beams on at night
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| I take the backstreets to avoid the heat
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| and never let em see me sweat, it takes a thief
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| Outro:
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| Oh yeah!
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| Yeah yeah!
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| Hey yeah!
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| Just a reminder to let you know
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| there’s motherfuckers out there that want your shit
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| So you better watch out, better watch your back
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| Can’t be goin to sleep, protect your shit
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| Know what I’m sayin? |