| Raps will be actin' ill
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| And that’s exactly how I feel, shoutout to Guru
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| Don’t base my whole life on loot, but money sure helps
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| I keep it tight like army boots to ensure wealth
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| I meet suckers every day that rhyme, they say they rhyme
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| Most of them corny as hell, won’t get paid a dime
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| A lot of these punks, they all sound the same
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| They all sound lame, fakin' like they down with the game
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| Against me, they fail
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| I’m like the black Frankie Ale
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| I leave 'em slumped, and their bodies dumped over the rail
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| Show me respect, then cut me a fat check
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| You little niggas are like virgins, you haven’t had ass yet
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| Wet behind the years while I’ve been spittin' darts for years
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| Don’t make me embarrass you in front of your so-called peers
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| The fools gassed you in the first place, dirt face
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| Cocksucker, thought you had wins, got stuck in the worst place
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| And that’s when I attack your fears
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| 'Cause I’m a real racketeer, get my money and bring it back here |