| Filter all this noise like these beats on my ear
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| I’m really froggish, every year is leap year
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| Freshly cut to death, every week I’m off that chair
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| Taco Tuesday find your boy at the Savoy, savoir-faire
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| In Inglewood I’m really good, in Venice I get plenty bud
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| These niggas think they really good, reality they really none
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| They really like my little sons, they really like some little bums
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| They not even a factor in this burn, they really get no run
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| Ruby drop a ton of rhymes, a ton of beats I’m known to eat
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| I gotta eat like Megatron on Monday night against the Chiefs
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| I gotta bring my A game, my main frame 200 pounds
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| I’d rather dump 200 rounds and watch you fucks run out of town
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| This L.A. city all Southern section, true confessions
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| You bad ass little kids, you could all learn a lesson
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| I’m not stressing, and I surely ain’t hiding behind no texting
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| Here I stand, just a man in all of his imperfections |