| Two choppas and the extra clips
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| You know we keep them Glock 40s with them hollow tips (BOW!)
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| FYI you better wear yo vest
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| You now rockin' with the muhfuckin' best
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| Ride the track like my Cadillac, I Eslcalade
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| Niggas in my hood call me «Mr. |
| Microwave» (Ha HAAAAA)
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| Shoulda worked at KFC I cook chickens all day
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| Ain’t na’an nigga greater, I shoulda been a cater. |
| (Daaaaamn)
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| 17−5 will get you one of these
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| Best believe I ain’t talkin' car keys
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| A hunnit grand, will make ya wrist glow
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| Gone cost you half of that to get ya boy for a show (AYE!)
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| Niggas like «Damn, the nerve of this nigga
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| I used to flip birds with this nigga.»
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| Now it’s Rap City, Mr. 106
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| Young nigga with the scale, now it’s TRL (HA HAAAAA!)
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| And MTV too
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| If I was you, I’d hate me too
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| Wassup
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| Ha HAAAAA (Ha HAAAA)
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| Ay! |
| I’m laughin' at y’all
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| I’m laughin' at you nigga
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| You can’t stop the young nigga they call «Slick»
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| Premature ejaculation, I spit quick (OK!)
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| And I ain’t Maceo, but I do flip quick
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| Disrespect the shield, man, you gotta get hit (BOW!)
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| I’m a young boss, all I do is nod and shit
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| Have niggas come through with them revolvers and shit
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| Now they bussin' at ya frame out the black '88
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| We let the work through like Bush in '88
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| You can’t flex on us, man, the clique heavyweights
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| Niggas barely nibblin', big dinner on our plates
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| And chilly pimp jewelry got me laughin' in ya face
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| It’s CTE nigga, better stay in ya place
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| For REAL! |