| I know that y’all feel me now
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| Since we dropped that Versatile
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| Know y’all ain’t seen my clique in a while
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| We in the hood coming up with killing style
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| Everybody talk cause we home now
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| Look at here boy, you’d better gone now
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| It used to be black but it’s chrome now
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| If it’s cocked back then it’s gone fly
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| Put it on boss, so I won’t lie
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| I used to be young but I’m grown now
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| Hit a few licks, so we known now
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| Kicked a little south, so it’s on now
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| Do what you gotta when you broke man
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| If you get a verse, get the whole thang
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| How we get here, see we drove man
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| Rollin in a 'Lac on them chrome thangs, whoa man
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| We leavin 'em blowed, we leavin 'em throwed
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| We rollin’for sho'
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| We got the wood smellin like cinnamon
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| Gigolo, pimp, got 'em a pro
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| I’m hitting them blowed
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| I’m dropping straight game just to put them in Could’ve been
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| The cheapest pimp that you ever seen before
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| I know you love it when I ride D’s and vogues
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| I know the junkie love it when I cook keys and o’s
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| I’m a freak so you know I stay pleasing woes
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| I love wood so you know I keep Optimos |
| We had to Gump locked when we dropped «On Them Vogues»
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| And the south don’t stop till my head explode
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| Gotta keep it cold till my pockets swolle
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| So if you don’t know you’d better ask her though
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| Big pimp quick to kick down your door
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| I’ma say it again, like I said it before
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| When them Dirty Boys drop
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| Better hit the floe
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| Here we is boy, here we is boy
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| OK now
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| Now who be dropping them bombs
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| They keeping you crunk by making you jump
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| Off of every word that I spit out
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| You know them boys from the slum
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| They carry big pumps and ready to bomb
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| Off everything that’s in our way now
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| Packing the heat, you stacking the cheese
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| Ready to freak, each and every one of you woes
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| Who running the Gump, man y’all already know
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| Them Dirty Boys, they got a style so cold
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| Continue to blow that killa smoke through my nose
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| Emptying clips and busting holes through our foes
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| Who that out there that’s trying to steal our flow
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| After this time, I bet you won’t no more
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| We left for a while, but now we back on your block
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| Locking it down because we opened up shop |
| You open your mouth and boy you bound to get popped
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| We licking up shots because we leaving them cocked
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| And every thug that I run with G’s
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| Smoked out keeping freak tricks on they knees
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| Gotta sack of green wood so we called it trees
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| Plus a thing of Thunderbird that’s swerving me Now what y’all know bout Mr. G Much love to them thugs that run the streets
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| Crack sells, fat mail, while them junkies geek
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| Pop slugs, draw blood, make them fakers flea
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| I know a lot of y’all out there envy me That’s all right, we knock em off easily
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| Seems to be that you would be more concerned
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| With making your own
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| Plus a little skeeting up stone
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| But let it alone
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| Cause it ain’t nothing you can do Dirty Boys coming back and we bringing the true
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| And the rest of y’all know when you showed the show
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| Deuce, triple O, we make em hit the floe
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| Now what y’all think we been doing brah
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| Sittin at home
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| Eatin snacks, getting fat
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| We been in the studio making tracks
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| But y’all boys wouldn’t know nothing bout that
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| You too busy running off at your mouth |
| Hollerin about, we fell out
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| You need to worry bout y’all own damn house
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| While you’re always trying to worry bout ours
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| Saying «Where the Pimp, where the G I know they ain’t fell of the M-A-P
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| Is it gonna be y’all last cd»
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| Look at here boy, stop asking me That’s the same old thing you asked last week
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| You talk too much if you ask me
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| I’m glad I ain’t tell you that I lived with G
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| I’m glad I ain’t tell you that I flipped the keys
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| Let me ask you a question
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| You remember my 'Lac
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| The green one that I had with my name in the back
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| Why you won’t tell me Hell who stole that
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| You pulling everything else out your hat
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| See most of y’all started rapping yesterday
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| See me and G been rapping since the 3rd grade
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| And I don’t give a damn what none of y’all say
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| We bout the only group that deserve to get paid
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| So roll em up, sack em up, pack em up, and move em out
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| Them Dirty Boys coming back through this town
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| And we won’t stop till we shut it down
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| So if you didn’t know you’d better ask her though
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| Pimp and G quick to kick down your door |
| I’ma say it again like I said it before
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| When them Dirty boys drop (When them Dirty Boys drop)
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| Better hit the floe |