| Aiyyo I got the dimes that I get, I got the dimes that I bring
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| Yo, yo yo
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| Yo Preem', what’s good?
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| What’s good man — you still fuckin with that shit son?
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| Yo, don’t even come at me with that bullshit man, whassup?
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| I’m sayin man, you said you was gonna leave this shit alone
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| You still on that bullshit nigga
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| Son. |
| SON I’ll leave it alone
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| when you come and get ready with this music B, what the fuck?
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| I’m sayin man, who the fuck you think you are man?
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| Yo, yo
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| Yo gangsta gangsta, O.G. |
| is what you call me
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| It’s like my life is like a never-endin drug story
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| Make coke, expand, yo you know who I am
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| Death percentages rises in the hood like grams
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| Who done it and ran, who blammed on my fam'
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| Out the window every night, deadly intentions man
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| Cocked back and ready to fire, hit man for hire
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| And fuck politicians, nothin but liars
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| As I build my cream, with self esteem
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| But drink the water from the streams, of gangsta lean
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| To keep food on my plate, stick a mac to your face
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| So I never have to fall off, so you can never underrate
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| Force pressure, is the techniques of real men
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| So when you slam the doors, we still get in
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| It’s like demons when, what you fight that you can’t see’ll
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| Come out your buildin, and get shot drastically
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| The way of the world, niggas fiendin to pull it
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| You either bite the dust, or just dodge that bullet |