| Now that a nigga’s seen money, shit
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| I can smile and laugh
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| I got 20's on my bentley
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| An iron cage in front of my pad
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| And I still mean muggin
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| Throw up west-side in my photo shoot
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| And got tv’s, 20's and dvds in my photo coupe
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| Got a stash spot in the airbag
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| For when the po-po's snoop
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| Steady mobbin on the killa route
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| With the bads like pride gin n juice
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| I’m split proof
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| With the bulletproof and the gin n juice
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| Still mash with the men in blue
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| And stay strapped down with a mac-10 or two
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| Now how you wanna do it?
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| We can get muddy and bloody
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| I’ma still count cash, count crass
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| In the middle of the street whoopin niggas ass
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| I’m west bound crowned by 50 pounds that’s how I do it
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| On the phone with your wife
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| While ya gettin beat down that how I do it
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| I’m a mastermind in crime
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| I cause disaster with one 9
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| Be behind 17 bodies all shot in the head one time
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| So think twice before you gaffle
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| One pellet to the big apple
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| All your names in one bag
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| Were pullin death tickets like a raffle
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| Bitch, I’m a rider for death
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| Slide with a tek-9 for respect
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| And a nigga that step gets stepped with a tek
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| So it’s best you ride with a vest
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| Homicide be the best bet
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| For the real life with the best threats
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| Surprise, with a tek full of teflons
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| It’s westside for death
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| Yeah yeah war, 9, give it to em
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| Hit the men in blue and I send it to em
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| Let off the deaf one full of teflons
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| Hollowtips spittin straight through em Niggas scream one never seen one
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| Send a mini 14 in the street low
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| With no remorse of course I aim
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| The tip of torch and I scream go Haven’t you ever heard of a straight killa?
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| One that makes |