| Yo Fab what up nigga
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| Funeral Service, Killa Season, Slime Flu
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| Lot of shit going on
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| Let’s get ready to go in though
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| Huh, I said, ice in a ceramic van?
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| Dammit Cam, Cam is stuntin'
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| Weed in a picnic basket, bastard hit the panic button
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| Over a piece of paper, street sweepers, meat cleavers
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| Deep freezer, meet your maker, place your order, we the waiters
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| Coke, keep the?, instigators?, keep the flavours
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| Main course, meat potatoes, keep your favours, see ya later
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| The crew?, black and grey, we the Raiders
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| Diamonds in my ear, please baby these are lasers, haters
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| Front on me? |
| Huh, I doubt it punk
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| Pop the trunk, my goons, high noon, out to lunch
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| The D&G bag? |
| That’s where the weed stash
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| Keep cash, breeze past, fuck y’all, eat glass
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| My tank on full, ease gas
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| Stay on point with the white, (like who?) Steve Nash
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| Gun go in the waist, dun' dough, I get cake
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| Me and funeral Fab, front row at your wake
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| Hit 'em up, shotty blast, zipped up, body bag
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| Fifth tucked, then what? |
| Bullets hit your body fast
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| We beatin' murderers with the same lawyer Gotti had
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| Tie him to a pick-up truck and watch his body drag
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| Funeral, Killa, this just got very scary
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| All the competitions in the cemetery buried
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| Jesus piece, rosary, black white canary jerry
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| Pardon me, it’s the God in me, marry Mary
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| But all them long stairs/stares ain’t necessary, hear me?
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| Cannon with me, not the one Mariah Carey carry
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| I’m talking sawed offs and 4 fizzys?
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| Fuck knocking on the door, to blow the doors off, it’s more easy
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| I’m at the top floor of the Wardarf, for four seazzys
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| Nickname, never caught off the floor seazzys
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| Tonight they lost?, ask Walt Frazier
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| We had a little bet, wouldn’t say a vault breaker
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| But watch your mouth, I’m not the best insult taker
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| I make them call the yellow tapers and the chalk tracers
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| They got names for niggas like y’all, it’s called «fakers»
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| They should put anthrax in your salt shakers
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| In due time let your semi spray, they kidnap my slime
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| On a rainy day I got them back with two 9's and 20k
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| Timberland boxes of plenty yay, more squares than?
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| Our records carry? |
| like a Fendi case. |
| Huuhh!
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| Four five meetings make a long day
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| Rap LeBron James 23 a whole ball game
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| That’s what we call cane, black rocks, all dames
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| No slaves, suit and jewels, pin stripe, ball chain. |
| Haa!
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| Skinny nigga on his? |
| shit
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| Benz doors go up like the arms on the Karate Kid
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| A cocky kid, no rappers but my pockets big
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| «Can I Live» bumpin' pumpin' out my mamas crib
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| Burners, mayhem murders
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| Gangland, double black suit, white tie off Space Jams
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| I’m causing funeral arrangements, make plans
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| I’m Paid In Full, y’all ain’t rich like H-Man |