| Ain’t no Bugattis round here, just a old box
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| Swishas on deck twistin' up the whole box
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| Today was wonderful I came up on a few rack
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| The definition of a G bring the truth back
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| Yea the groove’s back I’m on the panoramic life
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| Nightime vision in my shades and it’s damn near night
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| Yea, I put a hunned on this smoke bag
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| Smell like an onion in this smoke bag
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| Get yourself toe-tagged, niggas so fast
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| Run up with your ass, I run up in your whole ass
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| No disrespect to your ass but mami want it so bad
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| I stick ‘em like post-its Re texas hold 'em
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| I’m the king, said I’m the king
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| Yea I’m the king of rock, there ain’t none flyer
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| And I won’t stop rockin', I won’t retire
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| I’m the king, said I’m the king
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| It go, Kash, if you see what I’m smokin' now
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| Take two and pass nigga, blow it out
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| I know it smell loud, but really it sweet
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| My spot on cloud nine y’all know I put up my feet
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| And I’mma have a drink, I’m on the ground black
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| My I love her for that
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| I’mma call up my connect and get up on a few jars
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| Last time I seen her had to run a nigga two large
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| On that Jamaican fruit, he call it fruityard
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| And now it’s martian green, it gets you Bruno Mars
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| Yo, listen I be on that Khalifa shit
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| Ain’t nothing silly though, yea said
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| Come up for air shorty, take it easy mama
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| You ain’t gotta impress me, slide it cooler than Gretzky
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| To the rules when it’s messy, keep it true would you let me
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| Disrespect you like how most rappers rap about in they songs
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| If we do get along can I Vietnam bomb
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| Surprise you with witty charm
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| Flip another response to her messages
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| Lessons is prerogative, prolly twist a piffery
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| Disappear, no forgettin' me I’m slippery
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| Musician, claim I’m in need of a muse
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| Just an excuse for her in my swimmin' pool
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| Rap perks kinda cool, never stop rhymin' fool
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| Do it every day, all the time and my dude it go
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| Microphone blue and the flow is so fluid
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| Just cool you, just some catchin' up to it
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| Hot liquid drips the lyrics hit the pavement
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| Like daisy cutters through the basement
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| Taste the aftermath of my iron palm blast
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| My five daily
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| Who could last the session with my Cherokee chief
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| See my wallaby Indian mocks
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| Watch me shadowbox, 52 locks blocks tomahawk
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| Ox chops technique street sweep
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| Yellow tape, white sheeps gun smoke somethin' dead
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| My chess game blow you out my frame
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| So by any means I be the royal lion kings
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| Son I’ll be the royal lion king |