| Put my phone on silent.
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| I gotta hear this, uh
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| Check it out
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| Slanging girly in the morning early, got to catch the rush
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| M.O.B. |
| and that’s a must, C.O.D. |
| I got no trust
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| And I be B.M.F.'n, a million won’t last a month
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| All I need is one, P.N.C. |
| and that’s enough
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| And I ain’t even crank up yet, but bet I’m gassing up
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| When my Prada press that pedal bitch you better fasten up
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| I exhale and ash the blunt, inhale a hundred times
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| Not even one hundred-one couldn’t bring back how it was
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| When a brick was seventeen and you ain’t have to rob your plug
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| When rapping was an art, now this shit a juug
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| Bet you couple dollars, few jewels, and some pussy
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| I’m getting a little too power drunk, now I’m on that bullshit
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| I got a problem and a plan, revolver in my hand
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| Trying to keep it cold, but y’all won’t understand
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| That’s why I roll, that’s why I roll with the Bible on the dash
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| That’s why I roll, that’s why I roll with the Bible on the dash
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| I got a problem and a plan, revolver in my hand
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| Trying to keep it cold, but y’all won’t understand
|
| That’s why I roll, that’s why I roll with the Bible on the dash
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| That’s why I roll, that’s why I roll with the Bible on the dash
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| Cutting corners on Coronas, trying to buck up on a bonus
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| Out here on my lonely, last stogie but I’m focused
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| Now I know, friends parallel to foe
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| And all that good pussy leave you parallel to broke
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| I asked the pastor, what’s the fastest way to heaven for a bastard
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| With a tarnished past, give me your honest answer
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| With all this Hannah Montana, without the Arm and Hammer
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| Am I going to get the slammer or the casket
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| Trying to keep a level head, rolling on this rocky road
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| This a full time gig, trying to keep this Glock cold
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| I got the work, water in the pot, need a hot stove
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| And a down ass bitch, and a squad down to roll |