| Darkside!
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| You know it mean more to me when a nigga really live them lyrics, you know?
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| Yeah
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| I mean, like when I listen to a nigga, I be like, 'Yeah, I remember'
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| Uh-hah, I don’t really remember them niggas, puttin' it down like that
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| Wonder why the flow retarded
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| 'Cause the shit we author authentic
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| More realer than you fake niggas pretendin', uh
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| Late night long drives our main agenda
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| Get money, fuck every bitch before we end up dead in the pine box
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| Make sure it’s a hunnid thousand
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| I grew up in public housin', boilin' crack in water fountains
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| Youngin on the park bench fantasizin'
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| Same spot he got shot and they can’t revive him
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| Darkside is a tail of addictions
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| Turn your moms into a fiend 'cause you addicted to pitchin', uh You gotta get
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| the Cuban three kilos
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| Giovanci, the heat’s on me
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| Got knocked, turned quiet, bet ya sing off key
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| Nah, man, I stay Cool like D.R.E
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| Livin, rooms with swimmin, pools filled with P.Y.T.'s
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| Fresh pair of J’s and some P.R.Ps, you know?
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| Yeah, uh
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| Just me and my bitch in the two-seater
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| Mink flow in the wind that’ll move PETA
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| Give me a pot and a stove and I could move pieces
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| Thirty six of them O’s, I bought a Mona Lisa
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| Got more white chicks than a sorority house
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| While Fox News quick to point minorities out
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| I got a Mexicana chick, bad Dominicana
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| Pointed her out the crowd and her son’s a punta cana
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| Put her in some pumps and designer Chanels
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| She got a pussy wet enough to douse the fires in hell
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| Got the iron on my seat and I pull up blastin'
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| 9th Wonder on the beat and it’s a fuckin' classic
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| Uh
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| Yeah
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| I wanna shoutout my brother Brent T.A.T
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| Bio, Nice and B. G
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| Shoutout to Shane 125th!
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| Uh
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| Cope 2 I see you, forever king |