| Niggaz be like D-B on some old throwback shit
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| I scoop your little birdie on some Bobby Womack shit
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| The best you ever heard, fuck that, you know that shit
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| Perpendicular to most, with the flow that’s sick
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| Lookin sporty in the 740 (aight) put the G on the shorty
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| even if I’m tore down, from a 40
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| No advertisement or chastisement
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| The ice on my neck make the honey’s eyes squint
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| Every, chance I get, from the stance I pick
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| Flick your ass on the floor like a cancer stick
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| No more, jokes and games, I hope to claim
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| I want, boats and planes, ice ropes and chains
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| When it, pours it rains, so I’m weatherin the storm
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| Been away for three joints and still better than the norm
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| Yo I’m deep rooted, for this here, I be zooted
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| I do it to you all night girl, when I be booted
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| Find out, have you screamin time out
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| Your big lover man chillin with the shine out
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| Girl I blow your mind out, we can wine and dine out
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| Reclined on my system, Alpined out.
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| Tryin to build a monopoly, Franklins on top of me
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| I go to the Roof, if 97 start rockin me
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| No stoppin me, on the verge to blow
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| And I, splurge the dough from the words I know
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| From the true and living, bonafide top contender
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| Not a pretender, I live my life in splendor
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| Uhh, remember, I got the ill type phonetics
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| You wack MC’s sound patheti |