| Geah! |
| Aiyyo Starks, whattup?
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| What it do family?
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| We street bullies for cheddar, and that’s our word
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| Pop bottles and spend money on chicks with curves
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| We the youth poetic justice, the kings and the Yankees
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| Our flows is vicious, check check, check out my melodies
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| We gifted with vocab to make the streets spaz
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| And I’m infatuated with money like Mr. Krabs
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| Blow bags of that purple 'til I’m purple like Grimace
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| Burn spinach cause it keep up flows, Shawn’s a menace
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| Even Barack watch «The Wire,» the streets is political
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| Watch how the '89 analog switched to digital
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| It’s a miracle, we gettin rich, offa visuals
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| Millionaires open doors, split them residuals
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| And still don’t know how to act, spend 5 beams on jeans
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| Steady blowin cream by the stack
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| I get my change, now go cop, get’cha a drink
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| And have a ho butt-naked washed up by the sink
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| Blowin stink, and I don’t see grass on the field
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| So I’mma tear ass on that field
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| The Doe Wilson walk around with a bottle of Spades
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| Diamonds lookin like I flossed in a cascade
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| Dee dee dee da dee, dee dee dee dee da dee day
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| You asked for Donnie G oh won’t you please come out and play
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| They know I keep that black girl, the black guns and the AK’s
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| I’m comin where you lay, and yeah I’m gonna spray — hey!
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| Motherfucker what’chu lookin at? |
| The crook’s back
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| Staten Island got my back, Brooklyn niggas let it clap
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| Half these niggas ride out, Harlem niggas keep it real
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| Bronx got a shorty there, that’s my little hideout
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| , Rose, Donnie cake, souflee
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| M6, no top on it, toupee
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| Rubber grip, stainless steel, the night look gray
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| Yeah, this that fly shit, patch over the eye shit
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| Slick Rick, bruh, these bitches be on my dick
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| Yeah I’m the new draft pick, about to get my ass licked
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| Street bullies blastin, you ain’t gotta ask it
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| Ghostface, Wigs, will put you in a casket
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| Can I, kick it? |
| Yes you can
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| Can I, kick it? |
| Yes you can
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| Can I, kick it? |
| Yes you can
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| Well I’m gone — are you gonna miss me when I leave?
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| Besides this 8 times 5, got tricks up in my sleeve
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| Guaranteed, ain’t nobody around these beez
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| See the team, we don’t sleep, cause niggas need green
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| We bleed different, we chase money, y’all can chase dreams
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| Came a long way, don’t fuck that bread up in between
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| Tell 'em God sent you, load up that wop and let it ring ock
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| It’s more than raindrops, when your nigga name get scratched off
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| Like his name dropped, that’s when that thang pop
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| Y’all niggas thought once too much, that’s why your brain stopped
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| Lock and load both of them 40's I make the place hot
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| You can’t wipe that up with no shirt, that take mops
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| Out the window here’s another bomb let that bass drop |