| Aye you want some of this shit
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| Naw, I don’t want that shit
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| I don’t give a fuck, I don’t play dat shit
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| And I’m fin’nin to buss a cap in a nigga
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| Man SHUT the fuck up Whoa slow down, slow down, slow down
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| You see that brick house right there
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| That’s the nigga crib when he come out you gotta tighten his ass up
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| I’ma get in the other car
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| Aight
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| If there’s beef, cock it and dump it, the drama really means nothin
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| To me I’ll ride by and blow ya brains out (brains out)
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| There’s no time to cock it, no way you can stop it When niggas run up on you wit them thangs out (thangs out)
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| I do what I gotta do I don’t care I if get caught
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| The DA can play this motherfuckin tape in court
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| I’ll kill you — I ain’t playin, hear what I’m sayin, homie I ain’t playin
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| Catch you slippin, I’ma kill you — I ain’t playin, hear what I’m sayin,
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| homie I ain’t playin
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| Keep thinkin I’m candy till ya fuckin skull get popped
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| And ya brain jump out the top like Jack-in-da-box
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| In the hood summer time is the killing season
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| It’s hot out this bitch that’s a good 'nuff reason
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| I’ve seen gangsta’s get religious when they start bleedin
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| Sayin Lord, Jesus Help Me cause they ass leakin
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| When they window roll down and that A.K. |
| come out
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| You can squeeze ya lil handgun until you run out
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| And you can run for ya back-up
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| But them machine gun shells gone tear ya back up God’s on ya side, shit I’m aight wit that
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| We reload them clips and come right back
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| It’s a fact homie, you go against me ya fucked
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| I get the drop, if you can duck, ya luckier then Lady Luck
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| Look nigga, don’t think you safe cause you moved out the hood
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| Cuz ya momma still around dog, and daddy ain’t good
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| If you was smart you’d be shook of me Cuz I’d get tired of lookin for ya, spray ya momma crib, and let ya ass look
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| for me (Chorus)
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| My heart bleeds for you nigga, I can’t wait to get to you
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| Behind that twinkle in ya eyes, I can see the bitch in you
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| Nigga you know the streets talk
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| So they’ll be no white flags and no peace talks
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| I got my back against the wind, I’m down to ride till the sun burn out
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| If I die today, I’m happy how my life turned out
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| See the shootouts that I’ve been in I’m by myself
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| Locked up I was in a box by myself
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| I done made myself a millionaire by myself
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| Now, shit changed motherfucker I can hire some help
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| I done heard about the 50 grand you put in the hood
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| But ya shooter fin’nin to get get shot it won’t do 'em no good
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| With a pistol I define the definition of pain
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| If you survive ya bones’ll still fuckin hurt when it rain
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| Oh you a pro at playin battleship well this ain’t the same
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| Lil homie this is a whole different type of war game
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| See the losers and up in shackles of motherfuckin chains
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| Or laid out in the streets leakin out they brains (Chorus)
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| After the fist fights it’s gunfire boy you get the best of me (best of me)
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| If you don’t wanna get shot I suggest you don’t go testin me (testin me)
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| All the wrong I’ve done the Lord still keep on blessin me (blessin me)
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| Fin’nin to run rap cuz Dr. Dre got the recipe (the recipe, recipe) Yeah, uh ha,
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| aye Dre
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| You got me feelin real bulletproof up in this motherfucker
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| Cuz my windows on my motherfuckin Benz is bulletproof nigga
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| Cuz my motherfuckin vest is bulletproof nigga
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| Cuz my motherfuckin hat is bulletproof nigga
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| But the Doc said if I get hit I might get a fuckin concussion
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| Better that then a hole in the head right nigga, heh heh ha ha |