| Hey, yeah, uh
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| It’s a party over there, nah
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| It’s a party over here, yeah
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| Fuck that bullshit.
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| I ain’t no Peter Piper, but I’ll pay Peter to pipe ya
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| Cause they got me by the balls; |
| and I can’t risk it all
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| Up in the Jamaican spot, biscuit out and friskin all
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| Rudebwoy don’t make me bloodclaat lick off
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| Me not the one you wan' take off, see and
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| Don’t be brave, show me the safe and you’ll be safe, see and
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| Cooperative… shit smart man
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| Blaow blaow! |
| Shoulda been like that from the start man
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| Custom made truck, pop the trunk it’s all wires
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| 23-inch, all rims, no tires
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| Gritty motherfucker, Feds can’t touch us
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| Got 'em all conceited, the way we leave 'em stuck up
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| Nigga, I +R&B+ niggas like Usher
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| That stand for 'Rob & Bang' niggas once the R rush ya
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| My heart ain’t pumpin, no pressure
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| The way we run up on you niggas like your parents, and undress ya
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| It don’t matter what I go through
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| Double-R's my, life
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| And when shit just, ain’t, lookin good
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| I’ma make it be, all right
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| I’m only out for the cream, y’all wanna know the scheme? |
| (yup)
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| Here’s a tip, the tip of my gun head holds a beam
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| Roll with the team, with the spinnin rims so it seems
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| Like I’m movin slow when I speed
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| Stomach’s so empty my chest starvin
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| Y’all could be the great Batman but I stick niggas up so I be the best +Robin+
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| I don’t respect the D’s, make 'em call they sergeant
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| They call me Margarine; |
| slide out the gutter, like butter
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| I see your stones glistenin, that don’t mean nothin to me
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| I be at your home visitin and you ain’t gon' like my company
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| Standin on your doormat and I’m not +Welcome+
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| I buy bullets but I don’t sell 'em, I just make sure niggas felt 'em
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| Certain niggas gotta feel 'em (yeah) at least I don’t steal
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| Long as he come up out his shit, at least I won’t peel
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| May be bad but life ain’t all good
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| Long as niggas got that thing out and e’ything’s understood
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| It’s all hood
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| I do my robberies like a book of matches, I light shit
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| Might strike twice in one night, 'til my fire is lit
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| If I don’t got a gun I’m wirin shit — fuck it
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| I don’t look at ice admirin and shit, I’m thinkin how to make you up it
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| And is it worth it? |
| Shit, my pockets is hurtin
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| And the only way I can sooth the pain is duke chain
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| I ask myself, is that platinum?
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| Shit, the way I feel right now I’ll take gold if I have to
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| I don’t give a fuck about this party so don’t make me do it
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| Don’t make me make this DJ lower this goddamn music
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| Everybody runnin to they car cause you slumped over the bar
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| Look at everybody, havin a good time, don’t make me go that far
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| I got a nigga on each corner with a good reach on ya
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| And I don’t got the heat on me, so one move and they gon' leap on ya
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| My clique keep the fumes strong like ammonia
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| Cause we go hard, Double-R's the squad, the street owners |