| Ace of Spades, yeah that’s my taste
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| It costs four bones when you buy it at the place
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| It’s seventeen hundred in the V.I.P.
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| And three bad bitches wanna drink it with me
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| Now we just tryna kick it 'til they kickin us out
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| Then I’ma show lil' mamas what this dick is about
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| Cause it’s a damn movie in the back of my limo
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| They didn’t want it all the way so they just gave me a demo
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| Rubbin feels good when you’re drunk and you’re buzzin
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| Forgot who you was and tried to smash your cousin (I'm sorry!)
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| So shake that ass like a tree in the wind
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| Then she gon' migrate with me and two of her friends
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| They let all four of us in, the after hours is poppin
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| We buzzin like bees but it ain’t no pollen
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| These niggaz want my number but it ain’t no holl’n (no)
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| And hookers get kicked out if it ain’t no swall’n
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| So wiiiiild!
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| Hold it, fold it, show it, blow it
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| Hoes, throw it, status, quo it
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| I ain’t, focused, been drinkin, been smokin
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| (Look — so I won’t think twice if you ever start provokin)
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| Back that shit up, back that shit up
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| Back that shit up — (Said don’t get me started)
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| Back that shit up, back that shit up
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| (I swear to God bruh, I will get this shit retarded)
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| Look — see I was just a young nigga, in this bitch thuggin
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| Long hair, skinny nigga, bitches used to love me
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| Pants saggin in the city where they known to keep a ratchet
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| Momma told me tuck my chain, a nigga might snatch it
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| I was never affiliated, was in it for the thrill
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| An amigo ever spot it, we stomp and pop a pill
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| And I, guess that explain why these niggaz real
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| Mouths closed, pistols tucked, everybody know the drill
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| Doves cry when thugs die, but dude we kept it real
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| Did the time, pump the steel, read a book, gainin skills
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| Learn you can live by the gun but die by it
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| But the worst thing your best friend behind the trigger tryna pull it
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| I went through it all, been there and done it
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| On the Front Ave., see me lil' nigga you can run it
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| Since, I was a youngin, my momma she told me fuck 'em
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| Have respect and have tolerance, but never let 'em run you
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| We wiiiiild!
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| Look, now I’m just a young nigga
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| In the code, when I couldn’t tell you how I did 'em
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| around my waist and I ain’t even got a job
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| I’m duckin on these niggaz, I ain’t even catch a lot
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| Bitches on my left, and money on my right
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| Money all in front of me and money on my mind
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| See I’m just tryna live, I kill 'em that’s in mic
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| See I’m about to gas, you can catch me on my bike
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| Yeah I’m chillin brah, I don’t even know I’m gettin off
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| And all these niggaz bore me, so now I’m goin soft
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| I ain’t askin no questions, I do it like a don
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| I’m standin on the top, 49th at the Palms
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| Got 'em lookin at my wrist, Rollie-ollie what’s the time?
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| Then toss it to my niggaz, you know I throw them dimes
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| Lookin for a turn-up, and then they found me
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| 4 in the morning, we ain’t even sound asleep, you see? |