| Southside
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| If Young Metro don’t trust you, I’m gon' shoot you
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| Let me just say this out the gate:
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| I’m the nigga everybody love to hate
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| I’m the hustler every stripper wanna date
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| But I just wanna cut a check 'cause I can’t wait
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| Most of these rappers, groupies and I can’t relate
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| Stay in line 'fore this chopper get you scraped
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| I got a problem, I’ma say it to your face
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| And fuck your bottom, I’ma shoot you in your face
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| They want me to apologize, but I can’t
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| You can talk about homicides, but I can’t
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| You pillow-talking to these bitches, but I can’t
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| You niggas snitchin' on your partners, but I can’t
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| You let a nigga disrespect you, but I can’t
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| You might can turn the other cheek, but I can’t
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| You suckers rockin' fake jewelry, but I can’t
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| I know they wait for me to fall, but I can’t
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| Oh that’s your girl? | 
| That’s your world, I’m with her tonight
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| A rich nigga smilin' at you, It’s so pearly white
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| It’s the burr (burr burr burr) rockin' fur tonight
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| I’m Michael Kors to the floor, call me sir tonight
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| Think what you wanna think, but you can’t break a bank, fool
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| Can’t let a nigga go, she know I keep her bank roll
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| She wanna start a home with me, but I can’t
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| She think that I’m her cup of tea, but I ain’t
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| See, I’m the type to think his shit doesn’t stink
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| The new ice scream «Master P,» without the tank
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| Fresh out the boat, but she’s a freaky, not a saint
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| A stowaway, so I’ma make her walk the plank
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| They want me to apologize, but I can’t
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| You can talk about homicides, but I can’t
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| You pillow-talking to these bitches, but I can’t
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| You niggas snitchin' on your partners, but I can’t
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| You let a nigga disrespect you, but I can’t
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| You might can turn the other cheek, but I can’t
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| You suckers rockin' fake jewelry, but I can’t
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| I know they wait for me to fall, but I can’t
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| I’m on that rich nigga shit, I drop some bread on that bitch
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| All these stones, man you’d think we’re more than Fred in this bitch
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| I done shown this bitch so much, that I got scared of this bitch
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| She done seen so many mils I might go fed if she snitch
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| I need a mistress, the type to give me head 'til she sick
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| I told her, «please stop sucking on me,» I was begging the bitch
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| I was worth like half a million when I came in this shit
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| I’m a eight figure nigga now, I’m trained for this shit
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| Back to all these rocks on me, I look like Hov and Dame in this bitch
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| My life’s a documentary, I feel like Game in this shit
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| So many of my partners turned state I’m so ashamed of my clique
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| But I can’t never be a snitch, I’m too well-trained for this shit
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| They want me to apologize, but I can’t
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| You can talk about homicides, but I can’t
 | 
| You pillow-talking to these bitches, but I can’t
 | 
| You niggas snitchin' on your partners, but I can’t
 | 
| You let a nigga disrespect you, but I can’t
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| You might can turn the other cheek, but I can’t
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| You suckers rockin' fake jewelry, but I can’t
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| I know they wait for me to fall, but I can’t |