| I’m six foot two and a half
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| With shoes on make it three even
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| Been shot but I’m still breathing
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| Sent niggas back to Pittsburgh
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| With they necks wrapped up no lie
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| See that’s what happens when slugs fly
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| Doves cry when a thug dies
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| It might rain if you’re a love guy
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| Glocks we tote 'em in belong pawn shops where we resold 'em
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| And going in we let the fiends hold 'em
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| Fake aliases, no driver’s license or socials
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| But we cold cheek shit, so many hammers left the clerk speechless
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| Outdoors my niggas is dirty
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| Rollin' smoke in the back seat sippin' orange juice
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| Bumping Blackstreet, suede wallets, Wallabees
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| Pea soup Clarks, music blastin', laughin' with the whip in park
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| Bodies for lunch, they eat those
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| Old school guns is like old albums, clean 'em and they keep goin'
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| Hey man it’s rough outside
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| Crack heads is buyin' all night
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| Handguns is necessary
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| Fuck around you might lose your life
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| Anywhere in and outta town B
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| The same every hood it’s so real
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| That you gotta be on your grizzly
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| If not then you might get pideeled
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| Like one day right over a powerful dice game in Minnesota
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| We hit the mall up for kicks
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| Slid, in other words bounce, tip the chauffeur
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| To get that cheddar cheese back we lost from earlier
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| Get back the dices shaking, stretching my arm like Troy Aikman
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| What’s in the bank? |
| Nigga what? |
| Twelve grand bowl 'em
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| No little shit on the floor roll 'em
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| That’s what I do (sounds of dice shaking)
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| Six 'em girls, hit his kicks
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| I’m a still show that motherfucker he fish
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| Pound cake, beat that bitch
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| Holy smoke! |
| I admire your roll
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| Two fours and a five, they all applause and he smiled
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| But confident me, yea I threw my twelve on the ground
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| Grab the dice, blew on 'em
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| Passed off the other thirty five thou, I’m doin' 'em
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| Nigga move shoot 'em, what’s that? |
| You roll a five?
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| Twenty or better y’all, I’m taking all side bets! |
| Everybody spread out!
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| Watch the magic number that my pretty hand let out
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| My first roll was one two four, picked 'em up
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| Somebody screamed out, «Tony Starks headed for the dust off!»
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| I’m like hell no I’m headed for the gun store
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| Punch you in your motherfuckin' face like Spongebob
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| Watched his face when he aced, the place got quiet
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| Bowled like twenty forty times, my arm got tired
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| Couldn’t hit a point, not even a deuce
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| Took a swig of my man’s goose
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| Anything just to give me a damn boost
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| Then out came a wonderful six
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| Holy shit! |
| Stack that shit
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| Yo Trife Dies snatch that fuckin' cream quick
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| That was one one six, one sixteen point C
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| And I don’t care about no motherfuckin' Royce Green
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| He pulled out, he pointed at me, I pointed at him
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| My main man pointed at them
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| They pulled their guns out and pointed at him
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| And crazy shells they was coming in
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| Hey man it’s rough outside
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| Crack heads is buyin' all night
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| Handguns is necessary
|
| Fuck around you might lose your life
|
| Anywhere in and outta town B
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| The same every hood it’s so real
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| That you gotta be on your grizzly
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| If not then you might get pideeled
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| This just in, breaking news
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| Today in Downtown Minnesota, a tragic shootout occurred at 5:23 pm
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| An alleged witness says things went haywire over a dice game
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| Two black males were shot in their buttocks
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| Leaving one critically wounded
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| Two others were pronounced dead on the crime scene
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| At a nearby hospital, three New York men are recovering
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| In stable condition but are being held under police supervision at this time
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| For on the spot coverage
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| Theodore TV, this is Dusty Williams signing off
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| Now back to Tony Starks already in progress |