| Niggas got no heart so they gone in scared
|
| Talk the art of war, we’re the connoisseurs
|
| Told them level up so we gone upstairs
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| Lick a couple down, now they gone in pairs
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| Sort of truth or dare but they wanted dares
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| Bitches gonna cry so they wanted tears
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| Big round table talk, now they wanted chairs
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| Got the business plan, now they wanted shares
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| Yeah, they been spoilt rotten
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| I’ve been seeking answers, now everybody’s got 'em
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| Yeah, smart yutes, now everybody boffin
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| Yeah, dancers, now everybody popping
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| Cough, cough, now everybody coughing
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| Big boss, now everybody bossin'
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| When he let it go they like, «Why don’t nobody stop him?»
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| Passed out, wanna branch out but you asked out
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| Got that big cash that you can’t count
|
| Got that big mash then I marched out
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| Got that big bad bitch I asked out
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| I got that big madness you talk 'bout
|
| You better stand straight bitch, you can’t crouch
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| I’m 28 grams bitch, you half ounce
|
| Chicken trap house on a chicken spree
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| Chickens well cooked and the frickersee
|
| Pussy look good so she took a beat
|
| Gassed it up bitch, so she took the heat
|
| Nigga push white and they pushing B
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| Hollow cooks white, Hollow cook a key
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| Now she look good, nigga who is she?
|
| Nigga grinding, call it Pusha T
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| Man a buzzing, grab a dozen, dropped off to my cousin
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| That was then, grab my brothers
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| Couple hundred then and I’m covered
|
| Pass out, bend your back and you can’t slouch
|
| Pussy so tight, she’s like ow, ouch
|
| Run DMC and it’s our house
|
| Passed out, wanna branch out but you asked out
|
| Got that big cash that you can’t count
|
| Got that big mash then I marched out
|
| Got that big bad bitch I asked out
|
| I got that big madness you talk 'bout
|
| You better stand straight bitch, you can’t crouch
|
| I’m 28 grams bitch, you half ounce
|
| Passed out, wanna branch out but you asked out
|
| Got that big cash that you can’t count
|
| Got that big mash then I marched out
|
| Got that big bad bitch I asked out
|
| I got that big madness you talk 'bout
|
| You better stand straight bitch, you can’t crouch
|
| I’m 28 grams bitch, you half ounce |