| When I die I’m takin' the dog with me
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| You gon have to find and rob my grave like hippie
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| I got a Jones walkin' the city like they’re hitchhikers
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| Last script writer, y’all ain’t rappers or dick riders
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| Tryna call my click spider there’s none higher that I admire
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| Throw ‘em up with their shoes tied over the wires
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| We’re tired, stop in the long road, harder than the pavement
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| I shake shift, that’s why Kali Holmes ain’t got basements
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| Face it, I’m a threat to your era
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| Bifocals I need just to see this shit clearer
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| That feelin', you feel the sense of danger gettin' nearer
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| I’m Jack so pay close to the perception from the mirror
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| Open caps for the chips like Pringles
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| I put hits on your man just like some flippers
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| I got funk in the champ and while it lingers
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| I keep my hands in that cheese, we call it Cheeto fingers
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| See me creepin', be up in the spot with somethin' decent
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| Another day, another dollar, yea another reason
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| Body bags, ice duffle for me to put the cheese in
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| When it come to that pork we put the greeze in
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| Easy off the flake pedal and start breazin'
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| I’m like the wind, light is pliff, I’m ridin' gemstone
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| No key shuffle in the end zone
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| First of all, we the one and only, others is phony
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| Double G cronies, way I but ‘em in the head
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| If they don’t come up with my bread I leave ‘em dead and lonely
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| Just a satisfactory snack on categories
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| Rap rap on the track like a laboratory rat
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| Now how real is that?
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| My cup on the dover with dope, I spill the crack |