| Boy Sand on the muthafuckin lookout
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| Beat was so ill that I had to take the hook out
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| Anytime I lost, recount there was a miscount
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| Anytime I floss, you could bet I got a discount
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| Two out every two sleeves I could pull the tricks out
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| Me I nail the routine also nail the dismount
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| Drop it in the tip jar I be taking tips out
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| Homies I don’t give a fuck
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| Ladies take your tits out
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| When I’m on the hill there isn’t any pitch count
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| I don’t give a fuck 'bout anything you bitch bout
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| Never in the big house, often in a chick blouse
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| Often get a chick mouth looking like a fish mouth
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| Afterwards I dick down
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| Other words I digged out
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| I could write a list down
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| Fantasies I lived out
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| After it done fizzled out
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| Some of them done flipped out
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| Shit I get a kick out
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| Shit that get em kicked out
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| Not the type of cat to beat a hoochie in the head
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| I don’t barely move except for coochie or for bread
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| On it like quicker picker upper on a mess
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| Back up in this muthafucka like I never left
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| Bet
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| Please on deceased you could fuck with these
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| They love me long
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| Longer than 2003s tees
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| Blacker than colored kids knees
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| Rock it then I’m out like every item on a golden crust menu but the cheese
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| Want all I can eat markie dee
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| I run em out the yard sharkie eek
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| What a guy gotta do to move his commas two to the east
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| And Sporting yabba doos on the beach
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| I’m balling Sydney d
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| You holla foul and reach like a snitch
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| Get that shit out my house son a bitch
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| You can’t be top spitter when you leech
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| Suck
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| You in town and they don’t want you around
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| Buck
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| Sound
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| Burn ya real world to the ground
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| Puck
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| I be making pounds while I’m lounging it’s nuttin
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| You either begging pardons or you cuttin
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| You either on the list or you discussing
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| Who’s listed
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| Rhyming since bodegas slanging mystics
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| Rhyming since the sega was a flex
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| Everybody coming at me talking bout they got the new prescription
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| All you bout hear from me is next
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| Next
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| Yall know who it is, grammy award winner
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| In the foreign, with a foreign, listening to foreigner
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| Touring a new city nightly, rightfully i’m very paid
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| One feature had me ineligible for medicaid
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| Don’t work with bums for crumbs, i’m past that
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| Everyday you say today’s your last day doing verses, tryna gas cats (loser)
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| Only jacking the traction
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| Can’t believe you bmi the way yo ass cap
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| They used to play me like I’m Arab or Latin
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| Now white people wanna claim me like fast rap
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| And they tried to say droog was over
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| Still getting dollas like alla pugacheva (who?)
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| Model hoes in my palatial estate
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| 24 hour chef on call we just ate
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| Live good, give a damn bout what you got
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| It won’t ever compare to what droog, you fucking stugotz
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| It’s like a mansion to them little one bedroom spots
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| I’m above u like the dots on umlauts
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| If you fucked up then go see my doctor, you know my doctor, dr vinny boombatz |