| I feel like Pac, I feel like Biggie
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| I’m feeling like these hating niggas waiting to get me
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| I’m losing my sleep, I’m losing my mind
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| You know I go hard when it comes to mine
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| I feel like Pac, Biggie, Pac, Biggie
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| Sucka walk up on me, talking like he know me
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| Ain’t no co defendant do my dirt all by my lonely
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| Down south nigga, talking jam pony
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| Rest in Peace to Uncle Al he showed me my first Rollie
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| Bitches want to know me, haters want to show me
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| But I’m so vicious double m worth eighty tickets
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| Cop just pulled me over, caught up in this thing
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| Take my case to trial, my juror Paula Deen
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| I know they hate a nigga but he’s such a major nigga
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| Tell the clip the .40 when C.I.A. |
| with us
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| 305 them killas, Ricky Ross the richest
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| Bel- Air on my table, I talk it then I live it
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| All of you starve and I eat fast
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| Moussain when I creep past
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| Blacked out I max out with the same same watch on me chain
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| We killing niggas no repass my momma got like 3 Jags
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| You talkin' bout how you ball nigga we really gettin' that street cash
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| Say old money, new work
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| Smell the caine on my new shirt
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| My old g said strap up and don’t lay your head where you do dirt
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| And my momma said do school work
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| I was making that tool work
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| And niggas wanted me dead with a whole lot on my head
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| Man they hit Big in the passenger, hit Pac in the passenger
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| So I’m riding round with this Mac on me
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| And a bunch of shooters in back of us
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| Roll up and you a dead man
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| Head shot when we clapped ya
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| We sellin niggas to the murk em man, and I ain’t talkin' bout Erica
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| Feel like it’s me against the world
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| Bury me a g
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| My middle finger to the world
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| I’m gon' forever be a g
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| Pussy nigga want a witness stay armed no Biggie
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| When we get busy no alarms just semis
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| We pour out a lil liquor throw it like straight ballers
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| We cradle to the grave ride when my homie call
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| Give a damn if you me West P
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| When somebody gotta die, we gon' march to the steps
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| They said Brenda had a baby but she left it in the alley
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| One shot that playa hater now we going back to Cali
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| Hit the time nigga I got a story to tell
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| My ambitions as a rider got me ready to die
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| And when we ride on no more paint we go hard as shit
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| Why you complaining and you wonder why we call you bitch
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| It’s an every day struggle nigga me and my bitch
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| It’s unbelievable suicide I thought you would get
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| Said fuck me warning and the gun don’t blast
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| Give me the loot sorry nigga one more chance
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| You know this shit don’t stop
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| Keep these sucker under pressure
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| Only god can judge me shawty I ain’t mad at ya
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| Ya nigga can’t see me
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| A paid thug nigga
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| That’s why shawty wanna be me
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| See a kid around around in your town kick in your door
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| I feel like Pac and Biggie love the dough, more than you know
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| Ey yo, how you gon' compare yourself to greatness
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| If you ain’t ready to be great, man?
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| Ain’t no more to it |