| Just look in my eyes you can tell I’m a G
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| I ain’t no maybe between it, It’s just plain to see
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| I done been through it all
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| And I still stand tall
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| Done lost more than I gained
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| But still manage to ball
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| I’m MVP like Kobe
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| I made it rich off the streets
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| And got shot and robbed and did time from the streets
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| Took trips for bricks and made it right back safe
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| Done buried two of my brothers thats why I’m strapped with the K
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| They never said it was easy but me I like the fast cash
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| Been a boss since birth I had the change and bags
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| Now thirty some years later I’m still on the same shit
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| Catch me crossing the border with three bitches with bricks
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| I’m the neighborhood hero some say I’m an idol
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| Cause I move so quick and get that paper like Michael
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| I should’ve went to the pros from high school but no
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| I found myself in the trap cooking bagging up O’s
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| Hanging with the old heads I always thought I was grown
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| That’s why at sixteen years old I was out on my own
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| Staying house to house I dipped quick for cash
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| Wasn’t no living and chilling I had to chase that cash
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| Never been the club type I always wanted that money
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| While most danced and partied I was counting my money
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| You may be servin' my
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| I ran the streets on my own
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| I didn’t go back in until the dope was gone
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| Some say I was crazy but me I call it the hustle
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| They say cash run the world, well then cash is my muscle
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| I made plays off phones made $ 70,000 at home
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| Didn’t have to do no footwork I made a call to my clones
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| AKA my lil' goons don’t get it twisted they killers
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| Since I’m feeding my circle, Know they will die for a nigga
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| You ain’t get nowhere if you cross that line
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| And if it’s about my cash man yo ass is dying
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| I got a plug out in Cali
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| Got everything that I want
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| So when I’m done with my socket
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| I can go buy what I want
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| I bought an S550 all black with forgi’s
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| Rode that bitch though the hood and had multiple orgi’s
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| You couldn’t do what I do if I gave you my shoes
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| A lot of you niggas is lost with still something to prove
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| Don’t know the meaning of stacking
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| Don’t have a clue about the profit
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| While love made niggas ballin' they on the sideline watchin
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| You know them funny ass niggas
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| That always got something to say
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| Always flaugin' the bitches
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| Screaming that they getting paid
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| But really just in the way
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| It’s like nobody is straight
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| Everybody scream team but deep down they gay
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| Whatever happened to chiefs
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| Whatever happened to indians
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| Everybody’s a boss that’s why my young niggas getting 'em
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| Sticking straps to they face
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| Kicking doors in, robbing
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| No runnin' laps 'round you suckas
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| Nah, foreal I’m joggin'
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| I do this shit for the hood
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| I do this shit for the streets
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| Every time I drop I’m giving you more of me
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| Uncut foreal no soda just blow
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| You can cook feed the whole world this blow
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| I’m gymnastic with white
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| The God man with weed
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| I done sold it all
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| Except heroin and speed
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| I’m allergic to broke
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| Thats why I go so hard
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| And I don’t plan on stopping
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| Unless it’s a calling from God
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| All my niggas they huddle up saying Crim' go ham
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| That’s why I brought you this crack, Blow 3.5 Grams
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| All my niggas they huddle up saying Crim' go ham
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| That’s why I brought you this crack, Blow 3.5 Grams
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| Nigga! |