| Yeah, yeah
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| We gon' keep the E in it, Chevies on switches
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| Said I never fall off and I still don’t
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| Still stoned
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| Stoned on ocean
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| Right back
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| Like Brian De Palma wrote it, notable poet
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| Who The Source Magazine never quoted, not once
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| But every month another key unloaded, I’m one of the ones
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| Had to walk that shit down so my young’uns could run wild
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| Strong, they come with whatever the fuck they want
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| Keep them diamonds on Lucille she the mother of my son
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| Rolls Royces I got choices, just purchased my third one
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| Laid my jewelry on the mantle lit a dozen candles
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| Little champagne as I observe my security cameras
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| Scanning, peeping 'cause niggas get scandalous
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| Especially when they think you sleeping
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| It’s not candy ran out them street sweepers
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| Can’t panic in this time mishandling reaching for fire
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| What’s happening outside (What's happening?)
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| Element of surprise ain’t no chance to compromise
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| Rookies disrespecting the game and coloring all outside the lines
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| I ain’t scared of change I forever stack my dollars high
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| Nigga
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| Still stoned, still on
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| Said I don’t fuck with suckers back then and I still don’t
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| Still stoned
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| Stoned on ocean
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| Like Brian De Palme wrote it
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| Notable poet who The Source never once quoted
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| Smoking weed in it
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| Girl don’t post me in your pictures
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| If you can keep a secret we can always kick it
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| I said keep the E in it
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| Chevies on switches
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| And we smoking weed in it
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| Don’t post me in your pictures
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| If you can keep a secret we can always kick it
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| Rule number one don’t talk about me with your nigga
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| That shit dead had me suspicious
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| We hitting switches on Chevies highway dealing
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| Yeah
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| Loose lips sink ships
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| My shit ain’t sinking
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| Yeah yeah
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| Three cubes of ice
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| Still stoned |