| Yo yo Gu-rizzi, yo
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| Yo whassup son?
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| Yo man, youknowhatImean? |
| I need this money man
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| Get up out in these, in these streets man
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| Yo, so what’s the deal God?
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| I’m sayin, what you need though?
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| Yo let me have like, two or three, three G’s man
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| I’m sayin, I’m sayin son man
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| You know what happened last time though
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| I gotta do what I gotta do man, I gotta eat man
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| Whassup man? |
| Oh your baby momma stressin you?
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| Way past the days of the deuce me and you stays a crew
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| Only a few percent knew what me and you went through
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| We’ve been sent to dominate, these corny come-lates
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| And set this crooked rap shit straight from Crenshaw to Castlegate
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| Like Pete and CL, I reminisce over days
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| From the streets of Boston to New York and all the ways
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| For certain niggas to blow up, and crime paid
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| But my praise goes to the most high
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| Cause some nights I got so wild yo, I almost died
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| Some stuff I got into, really scarred my mental
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| Pops wasn’t tryin to hear it, cause of what he been through
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| Still, like my nigga Havoc said, sometimes you gotta
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| Hit your crew off, so they can make some bread
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| Cause no matter the weather, niggas be needin cheddar
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| And things in this world are more fucked up than ever
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| So let’s make this bond to keep this hip-hop strong
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| You a man Baby Pop you know right from wrong
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| So stay out of trouble, and that goes for me too
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| That’s what we need to do, that’s my advice to you…
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| You remember what happened last time, when you got knocked
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| Doin your thing, sewin shit up on the block
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| You need to stop, fore you get caught again
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| Or you get shot and I lose another friend
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| «Any man with the plan is precise with his life»
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| «Think twice»
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| My advice to you, cut down on champagne and booze
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| For a nigga like me, most time that shit’s bad news
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| It’s like lightin a fuse whether it’s sneakers or shoes
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| Cause somebody always wanna step up to start a feud
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| It’s like Set-tin It Off but not the movie
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| Plus let’s get some real women forget floozies and the groupies
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| Cause they spell mad problems from Watts to Harlem
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| And the bullshit won’t stop long as the world’s revolvin
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| And I recall when niggas knew my pops had clout
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| But they didn’t know my sorry ass was gettin kicked out
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| And they was seein if I wanted to come bubble with them
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| And make my ends triple and double with them
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| And get in trouble with them, now memories of them
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| I wear em in my heart like a emblem
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| I doubt we’d ever be bigtime sellin dope coke or dust
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| It’s killin us, let’s take our people and make a exodus
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| Annhilation, inhalation through the lungs
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| Or extermination, by the use of dirty guns
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| Triple beam dreams and drug schemes of mad cream
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| Could be a sad scene when you go to that extreme
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| «Any man with the plan is precise with his life»
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| «Think twice»
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| «My advice is to you…» |