| Still high off them pain pills you got from the dentist
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| My crib smell like pot and some incense
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| Plot on a yacht, cash crops and a drop color spinach
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| You said the money’s there I woulda been left
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| Hang the phone up, light the dope up
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| Tell the hoe to clean her coke up
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| And she wait to get her throat fucked
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| Them bad habits, whole faculty some trife bastards
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| We doing anything to live lavish
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| I came a long way from burning dimes of weed in a fiend house
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| Tell my bitch to count my money 'fore she pull her weave out
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| Slang got into where you can’t understand what we speak 'bout
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| Mix a half of green with the blue dream ounce
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| Flip it for double, I feel like Barney Rubble
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| Ten toes in the gravel, I’m finding trouble in any form
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| Hustles the fucking norm, riding a fucking storm
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| Feeling like Morrison
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| The fucking Lizard King, I swear I could do anything
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| Said on the real
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| All these crab niggas know the deal
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| When we start the revolution all they probably do is squeal
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| But chill, roll up that kill
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| I’m penning this rap from the backseat of my car service
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| Backwoods cigar burning, suck 'til her jaw hurting
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| Cash is the Gods purpose, they ask is it all worth it
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| The money say so, with color Jango play the block like legos
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| Moved up from Eggos, all the waffles Belgian
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| Spitting snot from all the pot I’m inhaling
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| I plot on a scale of the globe
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| Metal won’t mold, you let it get cold
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| For the price your boss' soul’ll get sold, nigga
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| Move like Capone through the park with all my henchman
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| I pass the cheque to my assistant
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| Snuff a nigga, tell him hold that
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| Grab the phone back, pardon the interruptions
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| Back to discussing bread I should be touching
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| Drug consumption on the daily, my women hate Israeli’s
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| Skin color Baileys, driver ditch the fed tailing, never fail me
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| They say I’m fucking lucky, nah, just a druggy 'til they kill me or they cuff
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| me, nigga
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| Said on the real
|
| All these crab niggas know the deal
|
| When we start the revolution all they probably do is squeal
|
| But chill, roll up that kill |