| 'Member Mossy, 'member the sweet dreams
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| 'Member the cocoa leaves, 'member Sega Gene-sis
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| Now we live in love like Genovese, stash twenty G’s ease
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| Crib in Belize please, forever cheese
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| Crib all fresh high-tech nigga, art deco
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| In the villa room, sippin Demi Sec, ohh?
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| Seperate the classiest from the nastiest
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| Bugs, on some ninety-six ill shit
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| Niggas used to rock Swatches and style 'member?
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| Now they 'bezle on the Rolexes chips like December
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| In Havana, the Cabana, Copa
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| Now Fox is flippin more chips than Oprah
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| Lizard skin sofa, ice flooded Don
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| Like Imelda Marcos, the Donness, I be the peron
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| Pure precon foot action Tone
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| Like the Brax-ton, Fox nigga get your smash on
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| No one’s gonna love you, the way I do
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| Nobody, I can love you better
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| No one’s gonna love you, the way I do
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| Nobody, baby your best bet is me
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| It was the floss thang, for them niggas to thug walk thang
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| And for the chips, Reebokses and New York thang
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| Small thang, and to the hottest, Goddess
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| Caramel skin-tel, try this, and die the hardest
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| Heartless, it was cool to shoot skully
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| He’s remind me, something like R. Kelly
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| Back in the days, maxes and cresses
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| Now it’s 6's with chrome rellies, and BBSes
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| Undress this, no deal, no skills off this
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| And from where I was holdin, before this
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| Bad chick before all this, peep the wrist action
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| Fendi sell ices around the bezelle
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| No sale, suited up in Bendel, Boogie
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| Oh well, could tell, I floss well, uhh
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| Peep the hustle, steamed shrimps and mussels
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| Lampin, in the Hamptons, quarter mile from Russell’s
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| If we was all Don like DeMarco, runnin crazy
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| Niggas, won’t be haters, ballin, like briqueze
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| Presedential suites at Ramada, in Nevada
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| Cheese like Ricotta nigga, bet I’m droppin
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| Twenty G’s on roulette, playa, what you bet?
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| The Cris have a nigga trippin wet, uhhhh
|
| Seven figs on a bet, 84 be 48
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| Five on the plate, high stake, indo
|
| Bet they went from Pujos to pushin Benz-o's
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| Dippin on a van whip with the dipped Lorenzo’s
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| The sassiest, mahogany Brown
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| Switch from, rockin lottoes to coppin movados
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| Peep the mix like mulatto, feel on
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| Tryin to chill on the ville sit back and get these mill-ions
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| Yeah, now you ballin, please
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| Your stash wasn’t swollen till my dough started rollin |