| I used to play the cornerstore market,
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| Now I play no corner in the marker
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| Call the coroner I sent
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| 4 about that lock and I hit you and the
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| Foreign door apartment, leave nothing buy y’all corpses on the carpet
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| I strike it, got the arsenal of a arsinist and narcissist
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| Hardly concerned what these other artists is
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| This ain’t a rap, it’s a biography
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| Yeah, copy written case they copy me
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| S dot laver, the f top player
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| Respect I hater, left eye greatest
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| Angel with a bag and reeing this heylow
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| When another tax bracket, your majesty getting yayo
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| Say bro, tell these pussy niggas lay low
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| Fuego, that’s how you feel when that ak blow
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| Yeah, just for playing with my pesos, paragraph
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| Picture perfect I paint them like playdough
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| Twice back, you can call me mister potato
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| Strong stacks, I move them blocks like legos
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| Hola santiago, singing, hola santiago
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| Nah, I ain’t playing grabs cannon and I aim it
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| Give it something strictly for the gangster
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| They hollering out, hola santiago, they hollering out, hola santiago
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| I used to have dreams of bagging up rnb bitch
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| Now I’m thinking victoria’s secret, something foreign I can creep with
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| Fore the streets of california, fuck the week and Monday morning
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| I’ll ignore it, the adore is at the segment
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| Which means that I’m on my troubles
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| To all these niggas and all these hoes
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| I got my friends and I got me foes,
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| Bank account, not enough O’s, too much weed in my lungs
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| New tags on my clothes, 4 clip to my chopper
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| Why would he come close?
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| Fuck around and be ghost,
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| Just for running round in that coast
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| West bound, tek round, for shit of sound of that toast
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| Praise give to the most, but still I bragging that boss
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| And it’s bare gang over erything, I live and die for that oath
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| They say hola santiago, while I’m smoking my guano
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| El chapo, sipping mohitos off capo
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| You ain’t bout getting deneros, get out the way low
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| Only real niggas on my payroll
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| Hola santiago, singing, hola santiago
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| Nah, I ain’t playing grabs cannon and I aim it
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| Give it something strictly for the gangster
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| They hollering out, hola santiago, they hollering out, hola santiago. |