| No prisoners kept in this c&, we kill 'em all and come up And virtually fightin’our shadow thinkin’it’s them in the cut
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| No more of my time to waste
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| No more pre-judgin'my face
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| Ain’t nothin’but a mugg on my jug, hopin’my score been erased
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| They hated, maybe replaced, or make it better someday
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| Cuz we can’t hack what they scratchin’to buildin’cars in our face
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| You had your chance to be real, instead you mappin’out your death
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| No more of heedin’nobody cuz we can do it ourself
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| Cuz it’s ???, or try to camoflauge me Like I ain’t seein’shit clear, cuz clearly shit gone see «B»
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| No more of fakin’devotion when soldiers turnin’it out
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| My congregation is caught up in bein’real, no doubt
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| I’m the provider for them, can’t be around and not down
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| Even when sleepin', I’m thinkin’of other ways for me now
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| To go and get it for us, and we ain’t got it no more
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| What’s in store?
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| Me and my onlys make it known it’s no more
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| NIGGA!!!
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| Second Verse (Gangsta Blac &Playa Fly):
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| (Gangsta Blac)
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| No more of stressin’me out, no more of this and the other
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| No more of upside-down smiles, to cut by you suckas
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| No more of smokin’your weed, no more of jonesin’for that
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| Instead I’m grillin’you villains like they gone keep up the laggin'
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| No more attackin’my pride, never again hold it in
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| I buck it once 'fore I duck, trick will get stuck to the vent
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| No more of thinkin’my talents gone be insured for a mil
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| Cuz if it was, my cuz, came up and do it foreal
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| No more of dealin’with hoes, I’d rather have me a bitch
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| Cuz she ain’t shit from the start, just keep her slick with the dick
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| No more of hard-head grindin’that shit round the trunk
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| Too used to gettin’what I want, so I’m gone keep this shit blunt
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| No more of layin’in the road, for you to walk over mud
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| And disrespectin’big Chug, and weigh you lazy in mud
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| Keep it away from me please, no suckas stoppin’E-ski
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| And we ain’t takin’no more, so Fly you tell 'em the D NIGGA!!!
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| (Playa Fly)
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| Flizy just can’t take no more
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| Overboard I’m bout to go Funk and drank and dank you under the table like I did before
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| Seven, nine of ninety-eight
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| Playa Fly gone hit’cha straight
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| With somethin’you don’t wanna feel the funk so you ain’t gotta wait
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| Trait like I’m flaugin’cuz I’m mobbin’over broken hearts
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| Movin’all my mini-Minnie Mae Mafia to hit the charts
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| How you gonna stop us now? |
| With all this, Funkytown we bound
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| S.P.V. |
| I’m bound, until I die then Playa Flizy down
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| First the A and four and one
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| Who’s the one be wantin’some?
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| Not the suckas stink, but get’cha straight when all their body numb
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| Can’t compact the garbage that you start producin’orally
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| I roll my windows tightly 'fore it really start annoyin’me
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| As much as I’m enjoyin’this, and ALL the weak B.S. |
| you spit
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| My windows already rolled, so you know this dizays overwith
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| So hit the horn, keep goin’man
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| Blac &Flizy in demand
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| No more Flizy can stand
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| So smashin’power like a windows man
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| NIGGA!!! |