| We got this drunk dude in the middle of the street
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| (He just told me, he just told me)
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| He said he was gonna shit on us
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| Oh my god, look at him
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| Don’t need that shit
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| I look like I need that?
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| Now look what this cheddar brings
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| Custom everything, swerve in everybody’s lane
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| I pull up to the curve then beef with 'em like Clubber Lang
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| Then throw their chick in some nuts like P.F. |
| Changs
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| I call that special the Kung Pao
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| The magnum come loud then kick in the mouth, the Kung Lao
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| But somehow someway
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| I keep coming up with more ways to earn them dollar bucks
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| Monster trucks, crushing you fuckers
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| Big wheeling, four by four
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| Hauling a two by four, that’s Jim Duggan
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| Wa — (ohhhh)
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| Waving the black flag, fuck it
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| I break down them roaches as if they tree nuggets
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| It smell shitty, don’t it?
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| It’s just a repellent for all opponents
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| And you can bet your whole city on it
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| Pass the keys and the deeds, nigga we moving in 'em
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| Switching the locks on your door, welcome your newest tenants
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| You can bet I got better things to do than that
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| Look what the kitty drug inside of his mouth
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| A dirty rat stuck in the city thuggin'
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| Cable box at an angle to keep the shitty plug in
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| Dickie suit with the pocket to keep the Griffey gloves in
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| Up to bat, I swing and knock the meat up out your pumpkin
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| It’s expected for me to come more rugged than bum skin
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| With the calluses, I’ll smoke the paralysis
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| Hold a mallah stick and bang my intention was malicious
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| (Fuck her right in the pussy)
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| That’s what the challenge is
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| Like GG Allen is flier than fake suede New Balances
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| Machine gun the label, they fail to pay up the balances
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| Heavy caliber, still taking things out the ovens like Mary Calendar
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| Professors compare me to Jerry Salinger
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| Many habits from the Hills, like Lenny Kravitz
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| Equalize the dope, throw the compressor on the lettuce baggage
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| Like the loud pack is too loud
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| It down and shit, word) |