| Forgiatos ridin', Forgiatos ridin'
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| Presidential Rollie' got me feelin' like Joe Biden
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| No Saint’s Row, I’m at the hideout but I ain’t hidin'
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| This bitch kinda crazy, man she keep creatin' violence
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| I’m at my momma house so we gotta' fuckin' silence
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| When I was in LA I dressed myself, ain’t need no stylist
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| Bitch I’m from the hood, I can’t stop at no stop sign
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| Tried to open her legs and I pulled out a thot sign
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| I’ma take your car, lil' bitch I feel like I’m Glokknine
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| Say you got a torch, I got a Glock, watch me bust mine
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| Real trap nigga, I’m out here sellin' Tuss' lines
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| Broke ass nigga, you be waitin' at the bus line
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| 8 on the chain, man I’m finna get a bustdown
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| You say you wanna' shoot, I gave you the pistol is you gon' bust now?
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| I got a thot, yeah the bitch a lil' bustdown
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| I got a pound, yeah the bag a lil' bustdown
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| Boy you don’t shoot cause' your gun turn into rust now
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| And they just freed my fuckin' shooter, it’s just us now
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| The bitch ask for money she gettin' cut now
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| I spent sixty bands and I’m like what now, that’s on my momma
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| Got a AR and it rip through cars now
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| My shooter comin' from home off that Greyhound
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| Smokin' Kush Factory, beans be the batteries
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| Think the police after me
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| My boy done caught a battery
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| And I’m in the studio, I told the engineer to send that track to me
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| And I’m at the bank, I told the teller give them racks to me
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| I could sell more fuckin' weed nigga than Master P
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| Your bitch in my hood, in that Impala, blastin' me
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| I ain’t give her no money so she mad at me
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| So if I give her this ten-piece I guess that’s rat in me
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| Hell nah bitch, if you think that’s how it’s finna' be
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| This bitch gettin' annoyin', man she keep sayin' «you a sin to me»
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| All these niggas do is hate, don’t need that energy
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| Why the fuck that nigga on Twitter wanna' mention me
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| Can’t even cook up for a rat, think you know how that kitchen be?
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| They got my nigga locked up for a petty misdemeanor
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| Hope I really go far with my damn demeanor
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| And I’m in my fuckin' mansions like a damn arena
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| Water on my neck, nigga Aquafina
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| And I run with dogs, I run with hyenas
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| If you my bro I can’t pull lil' Gina
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| She callin' me her pa but she not latina
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| Tryna' ask me bout' your hoe cause I prolly' seen her
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| It’s Goyard seats on the inside the Beemer |