| Yea
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| Yea
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| Yea
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| Aye
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| Look
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| I come from the land of the scandalous, yea
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| I come from the land of bad habits, yea
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| Gang signs, weed smoke, hit 'em up for fun
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| Back then they thought we wouldn’t see 21
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| Look like we ran past it in a automatic
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| We don’t take any chances, blowing any static
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| I made her do a trick, real acrobatic
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| Act innocent but she freak status
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| Yea, OPM about to blow
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| And I’m rocking cut and sew, if she a ho then she a ho
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| I can’t be crying 'bout that, I ain’t lying 'bout that
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| This the scene in the movie where the mob strike back
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| We got black fedora hats and black and grey tats
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| Shop on Fairfax and eat breakfast at Jacks, yea
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| To me, it’s the Westside over everything
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| I’m up at six in the morning like Ice T
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| Counting cash, living fast
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| Ski mask, a hundred racks
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| Body bags, blue rags
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| Red rags, LA hats
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| I come from the land of the scandalous, yea
|
| I come from the land of bad habits, yea
|
| Gang signs, weed smoke, hit 'em up for fun
|
| Back then they thought we wouldn’t see 21
|
| Yea
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| Look how we made it official
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| New car every 12 months, I buy it with my residuals
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| I’m on La Brea at the light playing Spice 1
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| I bet on my niggas when we had nothing
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| Them Motorola pagers, now we major players
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| Been having meetings in skyscrapers
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| I’m 'bout paper, love, and great memories
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| And great sex I want a hundred G’s
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| If it’s good throw it up, light it, take a puff
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| Helicopter out, another nigga on the run
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| Driving home late night, got my eyes low
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| When I look to the right, I see five-0
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| Make this quick left, yea it’s time to go
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| It’s weed in the trunk, they could get us both
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| Military Jordans, they my favorite pair
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| It hurt to see my homie in a wheelchair
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| Counting cash, living fast
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| Ski mask, a hundred racks
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| Body bags, blue rags
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| Red rags, LA hats |