| Catch you slippin' with them all white Buffies
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| Take that like Puffy
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| I’ll Leave a nigga with some shit stains
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| Leave blood stains all on them wood frames
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| Catch you slippin' with your feet up
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| Nigga, fuck that, even beat your bitch up
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| Catch you walkin' round North Lyn with Ye’s on
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| Run up on her, snatch those, now they gone
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| I can get 400 for these wire frames
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| Fresh out the box, no scratches, mayne
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| Real deal dawg, no fake shit
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| Transition lens, nigga take shit
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| Seen a nigga with them old school Mayfairs
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| Caught a two piece, at the state fair
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| Seen a nigga at the Coney with some ice in him
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| Now the doctor tryin' to put some fuckin' life in him
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| That’s how it is in the city of the motor
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| Where a nigga doin' what he gotta do to get a quarter
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| Dime, nickle, penny
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| Automatic, semi
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| Catch a nigga with' them Cartiers and I’m like «gimme»
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| That’s why we four deep in this Regal
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| Bangin' rock bottom, dirty Desert Eagle
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| Finna hit the club, you know what’s up
|
| You got some Cartiers, you gettin' fucked up
|
| And we goin' in the party
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| And we snatchin' niggas Cartys
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| I say we goin' in the party
|
| And we snatchin' niggas Cartys
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| We goin' in the party
|
| And we snatchin' niggas Cartys
|
| I seen a pair of woods, twenty two hundred
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| I seen a nigga with' em, I told that nigga run it
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| I leave a nigga dalmatian for them Malmaisons
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| For them rosewoods, roses where you stood
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| And I think them wood frames better on me
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| Sold 'em for six, coulda got a G
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| You think you real, g? |
| That heater on your ass
|
| Lose your life over Cartier glasses
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| I’m where you get caved over shades
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| Wood on your caskets, flower on your graves
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| You think them wire frames shinin'?
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| I’ll be at the pawn shop before this rhyme end
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| And I’m 'bout to get cake
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| Come to find out that this nigga glasses was fake
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| It’s all good, g, it’s aight
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| That’s why I’m bout to hit the club tonight |