| — w/ ad libs
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| Uh, it’s that knock right here
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| Uh, y’all in that mood yet?
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| Taha, you need a subo to play this in the car by the way
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| Let’s go
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| I’m a be quiet, let homeboy say what he gotta say
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| Get his little shout outs out the way
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| Goin, goin, gone
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| (*echo*)
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| This joint right here is called Get No Younger
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| Featuring Ezo
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| Shout out to The Klasix on the beat
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| Dave, Mike, I see you
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| Joe Budden, Mood Muzik 3
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| Let’s go
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| Now look, I’m in that 550 feelin like Chuck Liddell
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| Aside from Rampage Jackson it’s «fuck the world»
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| My lean came so mean, +So Fresh and So Clean+
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| Like a Sunday morning listenin to Joel Osteen
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| Like my beat down low, I’m rimmed up with the seat back
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| Boo with the sweet back, I definitely need that
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| Even if her body make a nigga want eat that
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| Bitch you don’t +Make+ a nigga +Better+, better see Fab
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| I know a bird named Amy, love to tea bag
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| Set you up right for some loosies and a weed bag
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| Alcoholic, cute face but her weave bad
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| And she went to the Winehouse straight from the +Rehab+
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| The recap rappers and they G stacks
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| Fixated on imaginary ice like freeze tag
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| I speed past, ease past with my G swag
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| I’m at a level most niggas couldn’t see past
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| On my grind, chasin dollars (chasin dollars)
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| In the fall or the summer (fall or the summer)
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| Streets are pullin me under (pullin me under)
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| And I ain’t gettin no younger
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| (*echo*)
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| Shout out to Paree
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| Jill, Grimstyles
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| Can’t forget Jay, what up?
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| Whoa, whoa, some say «sky's the limit», still I’m tryin to reach higher
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| So on my deathbed, I’m figurin how to be fly
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| I’m talkin above heaven (but)
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| But talkin about death is me beatin a dead horse and a nigga love «Slevin»
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| I’m a '80's baby with a '60's mind state, Yankee fitted backwards
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| Lookin at whippersnappers
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| Livin young and reckless, never mind who the best is (might as well)
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| They need to get rid of their style, put it on Craigslist (nigga)
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| Cause you ain’t crazy, stop it
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| Even if you was wild like Randy Moss, start feelin Patriotic
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| How I’m gon' lose with Tom Brady in the pocket?
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| Beggin dude to come back like the Yankees did «The Rocket»
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| And just like Clemens did
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| Reappear to get the most wins it in, damn dickheads is so sensitive
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| Pussies get hemorrhages, find a way to benefit
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| Even when it seem the whole World is against the kid
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| Whoa, I mean, the burner’s in the air (is that what you want?)
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| Like J. Holiday I’ll put you permanently there
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| It’s +Bedtime+ niggas, weapon of mine niggas, Wesson or nine niggas
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| «Minority Report», I’m ahead of your mind niggas
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| You wanted to beef, you got twenty with you, I got a hundred with me
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| Now this is somethin to see (oh)
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| Boogieman your whole squad, put you under some sheets
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| In that Dodge Richard Reid had under the sheet
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| On some Jetsons shit but if the shook type approach me
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| I’ll fill 'em with metal 'til he look like Rosey
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| Niggas ain’t off the hook like Joey
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| My feet is up cozy, at the end of my bed
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| Get on my Puff Daddy +All About The Benjamins+ shit
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| And turn my back on Danja/danger like Timbaland did (ya heard?)
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| Hoodie over my head, the snub showin
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| Fuck what the World’s come to, where the fuck’s it goin?
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| — without ad libs
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| (*echo*)
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| Shout out to my nigga Trees Bland
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| Bland Management
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| Shout out to Phat Gear down in A-T-L
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| Can’t forget Hall of Fame, Coliseum, Jamaica Ave |