| Uh yeah yeah
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| (gunshots)
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| Uh… grrrrrrrrr…uh…hot!
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| Uh.arf arf arf.
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| The heat is on Are y’all really ready to fly
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| The heat is on Are y’all really ready to die
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| The heat is oonnnnn
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| Have your mother ready to cry
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| The heat is on high
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| The heat is on, you know
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| Verse one:
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| The heat is on what’s my next move
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| Do I stick with the score, or get with the door
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| Feds got the drop in the back of the Uhaul
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| Snipers on the roof chance of getting away too small
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| Tell’em like this look, it’s gonna be a shoot out
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| Whoever make it out meet back at the new house good luck
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| If I don’t see you again peace
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| Let’s handle our business with these government police
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| You and you go out the front you take the back
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| You cover the first two and I’ll take the sack
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| Boomer didn’t make it, neither did Stan
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| Now it’s three niggaz, splitin’four hundred grand (aight)
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| We all feel the loss but enjoy the profit,
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| The game is the same and nothin gonna stop it Most times you make it one time you won’t
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| All a nigga could really do is have a vest under the coat (come on)
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| Verse two:
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| Me and my two mans gave money twenty grand
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| For a scam they don’t get the condo in the sand
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| And chances of gettin’caught slim next to none
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| Now we like three deep need that extra gun
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| Bump into my man, I remember from up North
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| I remember he had principles and wasn’t nothin soft
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| Off with disgust just was slow and dizzy
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| Everybody got it aight let’s get busy
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| Run up in the bank bitch (woman screams) hit the deck
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| Yo bust money, and get the keys off his neck (come here)
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| We on the clock, three mintues until we finished
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| Feds are on the way, but I’m tryin to see spinach
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| In and out duffle bag across the back
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| Extra large sports coat to cover up the mack
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| Feds they attack, I spit lead out niggaz spread out
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| Run up on a civilian in his car, made him get out
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| Verse three:
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| High speed chasin, racin through the streets
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| Death’s in the air, I can taste it through the heat
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| My partner’s goin’fast I don’t think he’s gonna last
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| And if he don’t, I’ma hit his wife with his half
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| But that’s the type of nigga I am this ain’t just rappin
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| I made it, he didn’t but ain’t shit happens
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| What can I do, but go on livin'
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| Fleein’from the condo, I go on a ribbon
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| Life goes on, that might sound wrong but heeyyy
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| We all live by the rules of the game we play
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| Day to day, death is a possibility
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| The way I play is a fist stops you from killin’me
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| It’s too hot to be in the heat cuz it’s on Too hot to be in the streets so I’m gone
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| Go back to being discreet live long
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| Til one day, either me or the heat is gone
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| Come On! |