| Yeah, rub my back while I rap bitch
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| Jet Life, jernts look like bats
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| You know what that is, homicide, kamikaze high, not giving a shit
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| Never die, this’ll go on for years
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| Multiply, legacy of the fly
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| Pedigree champion blood line, the big dog got the big yard
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| Behind a big crib, big garage, a fleet of ten cars
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| Shake the devil off, angel on the hood
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| In that, looking good in that
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| Ride you would’ve had if you was just good and rapped
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| Look at that, after all she did he done took her back
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| That’s real love, exactly how I feel about them stacks
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| Addicted to that money, it took me under like crack
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| I chase it like it’s running from me all over the map
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| I’ll go to where it’s at, if you my bro we can split it in half
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| Moe' betta', moe' chettah'
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| I smoke betta', then those fella’s
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| Ho you should know betta'
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| Don’t test us, we professional
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| No audio dope sellers
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| Don’t tell 'em, they’ll get so jealous
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| Moe betta', moe' chettah'
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| Sitting in the Porsche, parked outside of the port
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| Overseeing the import process, let my bitches sort it out at the fort
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| Back at the set, they get wet from the sound of my engine
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| My design in women
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| Two in the kitchen, the other two in the pool nude
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| But far too fine for me to say they skinny dipping
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| I never been in a position where I didn’t come out winning
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| Even if I was losing in the beginning
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| Stuck with it, now I’m up shifting
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| That three twenty-eight, game crooked but the paper straight
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| Got them bitches looking, yup |