| You know what I mean?
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| Like I told the nigga, I’m like, «Yo, you know my body, my nigga, ha
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| I don’t know what you talkin' 'bout
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| But you know how I get down, baby
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| Don’t be tryna talk crazy over here»
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| I got the whole world on my hands now
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| Attitude, fuck it, like I’m caught with my pants down
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| You pussy, and I always been the dawg
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| Most of the game are rookies, you know that we came to ball
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| Sooner you bring it to me, the sooner we ship it off
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| Hennessy and bad decisions, makin' millions off a song
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| With this bad lotto (Word), my motto, drive and swerve potholes
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| Numbers don’t lie when on my side, capo
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| I got an energy problem, no I got an enemy problem
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| No I got a Hennessy problem, paranoia’s gettin' me probably
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| Opposite of kamikaze, papi your shit never droppin', stop it
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| Tight body, nothing sloppy but her toppy, zombie gang, gang gang
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| Body rotten
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| Gucci sweats while casket shopping
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| I’m possessed, the acid dropper
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| Never lying Boo'
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| I’m designed to rhyme, the grimy moves is what I’m inclined to do
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| I’m sorry silly rhymers your highness
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| Don’t need no kind of boost
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| This is highly ignitable, riot indicting
|
| Frying my mind, body with chemicals
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| Why try?
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| It’s all in your mind, red eye flights, I’m going in raw
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| Lets roll the dice roll the dice
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| Take your life for likes, I’m trife, I’m quite nice
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| Precise with knife slice and dice
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| Inhale, exhale, close one eye, then snipe
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| Beware, this here is the tales of the dark side
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| Nobody gets out of alive
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| Ask why, Satan cried when I was baptized
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| All I got is my balls, my word, my pride
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| Her head fire
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| Ghost Rider, just Meech no help, no writer no sire
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| Pussy boy eat fire, Flatbush, east sider
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| I got the whole world on my hands now
|
| Attitude, fuck it, like I’m caught with my pants down
|
| You pussy, and I always been the dawg
|
| Most of the game are rookies, you know that we came to ball
|
| Sooner you bring it to me, the sooner we ship it off
|
| Hennessy and bad decisions, makin' millions off a song
|
| With this bad lotto, my motto, drive and swerve potholes
|
| Numbers don’t lie when on my side, capo
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| Yeah
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| Dirty as Jersey, no disrespect to Reggie the Noble
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| Repeatedly hittin' your whip until it’s been totaled
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| Please, lady, no photos, I’m hardly sober
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| My omens have only told me to focus on every quote
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| And expose every single soul with the motives of takin' over this globe
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| Takin' over the road, on the dough with my bros
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| I’m bowling with pins of woes, more than convinced I’m old
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| Wisdom infinite fold, my window is tinted, closed
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| These niggas is gimmicks, so I hit 'em like Riddick Bowe
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| I’m driven to pay the toll, you niggas is paper plush
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| You fuckin' with angel dust (Woo), we can’t be fucked with
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| It’s nothin' to niggas, no discussion, I crushed 'em
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| Sweet as custard, apply the pressure, the messier, the dossier
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| Closure when the Yankees play they closers (Uh-uh)
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| Can’t you see me? |
| 3D, Tesla memory
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| Here’s the melody, eat your shit, human centipede
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| I got the whole world on my hands now (Brrt)
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| Attitude, fuck it, like I’m caught with my pants down (What?)
|
| You pussy, and I always been the dawg
|
| Most of the game are rookies, you know that we came to ball
|
| Sooner you bring it to me, the sooner we ship it off
|
| Hennessy and bad decisions, makin' millions off a song
|
| With this bad lotto, my motto, drive and swerve potholes
|
| Numbers don’t lie when on my side, capo (Hahaha)
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| See I learned a new word today, nigga
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| Triskaidekaphobia
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| An extreme superstition regarding the number thirteen
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| That’s why a nigga don’t be havin' thirteenth floor on the—anyway
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| Most project buildings don’t really get past thirteenth floor anyway,
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| so it don’t really matter
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| What’s poppin', blood? |
| You good, you good?
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| You click the thirteenth floor for me?
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| Ayo, thirteenth floor
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| Alright, eleven floor |