| Havin' 'dat, havin' 'dat
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| Trappin' out the moterfuckin' Pontiac
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| Havin' 'dat, havin' 'dat
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| All of my young niggas havin' 'dat
|
| Havin' 'dat, havin' 'dat
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| Fly out to L-A, you know I’m havin' 'dat
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| Havin' 'dat, havin' 'dat
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| You sipping on the lean, don’t have a heart attack
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| Sipping on lean, got me having flash backs
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| And I’m in the cut with yo' bitch, smoking packs
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| Leaning so hard, look like I’m handicapped
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| And I’m high as fuck, just like a damn giraffe
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| Smoking on dope, man I’m so attached
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| Give me twenty bands and I count it, just exact
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| Smokin' on gas either smokin' on thraxx
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| Smokin' on the sticky pack, no matter where I’m at
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| And she got a fat ass, while I’m counting big racks
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| No matter what we on, we forever gon' match
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| I’m a young ass nigga, came in with no tats
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| You know Sito keep the uzi, then you know we don’t lack
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| I’m so high, I don’t know where the fuck I’m at
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| I’m forever in the trap, smoking baseball bats
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| Havin' 'dat, havin' 'dat
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| Trapping out the mu’fuckin' Pontiac
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| Havin' 'dat, havin' 'dat
|
| All of my young niggas havin' 'dat
|
| Havin' 'dat, havin' 'dat
|
| Fly out to LA, you know I’m havin' 'dat
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| Havin' 'dat, havin' 'dat
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| You sippin |