| Nigga you ain’t sayin shit
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| You ain’t really mean it right, who da fuck you playin with
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| Tell dat to dem tired ass hoes you be layin with
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| Nigga you ain’t sayin shit, you ain’t sayin shit
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| You are in the way, Pardon you my nigga
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| Won’t you get from out my face with all dat aren’t you da nigga
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| 4 we beat you 2 a pulp, you know orange juice a nigga
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| We’ll have yo ass missin, milk carton you my nigga
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| You kno how dem double shots of Remy Martin do a nigga
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| I shoot yo bitch ass, Remy Martin you my nigga
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| And I might say wassup, Like Martin do my nigga
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| But there’s some where my fly ass should be departin too my nigga
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| I succeed at what ever I put my heart into my nigga
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| So picture when I draw and put dis art into a nigga
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| There’s some fraud in you my nigga, I see broad in you my nigga
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| You soft as baby food and ain’t no hard in you my nigga
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| You jus jabberin and jibberin, blab anotha fib again
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| Have em at yo crib again, grab 1 of yo siblings
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| Fab in da Carribbean, dabblin and dibblin
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| Leapin from pad to pad Fab might be amphibian
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| And you must be a reptile, snake ass fake ass
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| Scramble egg and bacon nigga, yeah you better break-fast
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| Gon head baby shake yo ass, Fuck dem niggas make yo cash
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| Only time they scoopin green is probably when they rakin grass
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| Worry me please, what da fuck you take me
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| As I brush em like dandruff, with dey flaky ass
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| Stay close to dat Glock he has, Loso and his cocky ass
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| Nigga block my goals, I put some holes up in his hockey mask
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| That’s right these niggas ain’t shit out here
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| These hoes ain’t talkin bout nothing neither
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| Its Loso in case you ain’t know so man Street Fam
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| Niggas starting to look alike you na' mean
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| It’s cool though it’s a real good look for you haha |