| Everything yeah, yeah
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| What the fuck nigga
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| Ayyo dim the lights on my shit son
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| Yeah you heard, fuck that
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| For my nigga Flex
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| It’s like that y’all (that y’all)
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| That y’all (that y’all)
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| That y’all (that y’all)
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| That y’all (that y’all)
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| It’s like that y’all (that y’all)
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| That y’all (that y’all)
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| That y’all, It’s murda
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| Respect a thug, or accept a slug
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| Or accept the death of somebody you love
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| That’s the rules we live by, ways I kiss by
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| We all Murderers in the eyes of all ours
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| So when I pull a bubble up and back in your car
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| When I spit 16's you gona wish they was sparks
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| Can you hold something, you can hold heat you can keep
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| Slugs in your sleep while I’m plugging your freak
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| I’m the thug of the week, the killer of the millenium
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| Spitting like a mack 10 and a 9: Eminem
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| Blasting off like Flex on New Years
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| Who cares how many slugs y’all spit in the air
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| Niggas over here got Glock 19's, P89's, hollow points, and M16's
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| 357's and mack11's
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| We clap you come to the funeral…
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| Motherfucker if your holding them ?? |
| nigga
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| Then I’d advise nigga, we rip the high niggas
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| Don’t matter the size niggas
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| Ever since I popped up, alot of niggas done got stuck
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| While I’m laying the cut, meant that’s rocked up
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| Believe it’s murda
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| Niggas get popped up, burryed and chopped up
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| We don’t give a fuck if the cops get touched
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| A ?? |
| and a baby blue drop
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| With a stash box holding a 5th and two Glocks
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| And every 16 I spit I ??
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| And won’t stop firing, firing until I got, a 4 full of money
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| And playboy you bunny
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| Yo you get us a clip of hollow tip slugs from me
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| Bitch nigga, acting out the life of a thug money
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| I hustle and, grind those block for drug money
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| And make sure, kept counting every stack
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| We drop bombs like Flex and Big Kap
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| Fuck that
|
| It’s like that y’all (that y’all)
|
| That y’all (that y’all)
|
| That y’all (that y’all)
|
| That y’all (that y’all)
|
| It’s like that y’all (that y’all)
|
| That y’all (that y’all)
|
| That y’all, It’s murda
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| Oh why must children die
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| I guess the lil' nigga want the peice of the pie, let 'em die
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| Oh why must thug niggas snitch
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| I guess the lil' nigga thought he’d get a lil' rich, lil' bitch
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| That’s why we don’t talk quick
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| Cause niggas who talk quick get killed for the bricks
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| This is it, that’s why we walk with our guns
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| Cause those without guns get killed by guns
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| ?? |
| the one that will kill you son
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| It’s the same where ever we from, it’s the slums
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| We spit guns, lay you down for the 1
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| I love when niggas talk slick with they tounge
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| You ain’t buying no one, you talking shit
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| I’m from the place get killed for shit
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| So fuck where you from, better start from day 1
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| It’s amazing…
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| Murda mommy in every song
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| You was warned, should of listened when I told ya
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| It’s comming to a closeure
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| And almost over now
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| Go to war like a solider now
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| And you rat broads running my style, I’m shutting you down
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| From NY to LA, Vi-ta from Jersey
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| More of a bitch then a lady
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| Chase chips, slick bitch
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| With flows that’s sick, and it only gets worse…
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| Fuck that
|
| It’s like that y’all (that y’all)
|
| That y’all (that y’all)
|
| That y’all (that y’all)
|
| That y’all (that y’all)
|
| It’s like that y’all (that y’all)
|
| That y’all (that y’all)
|
| That y’all, It’s murda
|
| Murda, is the way of the walk
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| And since I walk a thin line, I’m looking at niggas with dead eyes
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| And I’m baptized, my body has sined
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| A lil' weed, a few hoes, and a whole lot of head
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| Got me hollering, I DON’T GIVE A FUCK
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| About nothing at all, front
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| I’m blasting off, killing you with probabal cause
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| Cause you probabal of thinking that you hotter then I
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| It will never be untill I die, and tourch the sky
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| Hells angel, fly
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| I feel like I’m at war fighting for my inner self fighting for my life
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| This world made me a, Murderer
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| May the lord take you, before I murder ya
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| Bodies turning up, and who you think got 'em all touched
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| Muderers, is on your block catching the rush
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| Like niggas can fuck wit us, they all gonna fall
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| Rule nigga, It’s like that y’all |