| Waitll niggaz hear that tame and fatal got down and made it straight
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| From uptown with six sacks and this track thats in the background
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| Stop stressin from the chest up, we messed up Off that best stuff that fits up in yo dutch
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| Situation like this, you get blown to bits
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| Fuckin with this brick lyricist, more complex than the pyramids
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| Here it is, strictly biz like small print
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| In between them bong hits, we drop the strong shit
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| Chickenheads say, «who him? |
| «with fucked up timbs
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| Knotty fro and baggy denims, spendin up the benjamins
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| In city tenaments, the boom skwadron odd man
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| Dont give a fuck like rodman («what are you doing? «)
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| With no rings like patrick ewing («what? «)
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| Still I play hard regardless
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| Acquitted from the charges throwin darts up at the heartless
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| Aimin for your brain, tame one, one of the darkest
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| Brown like the chocolate, poppin your metropolis
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| Chorus: fatal hussein
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| Around my way, all they do is shoot dice all day
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| Escapin secret indictments, gettin nice all day
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| Dont let em fold ya, outlawz, the getto star soldiers
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| Give this letter to the president, before this shit is over
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| When hussein aim, puttin they brains on walls like tame name
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| Blastin these motherfuckers cause they just cant maintain
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| Yall plain janes gel in the? |
| wells? |
| county of sing-sing
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| Me and young noble, got em strung hold em for hostage
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| Lyrics verbally toxic, spit like doubled edged optics
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| My shit is milk, wearin silk shirts with chocolates
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| Yall broke and cant cop shit, I get, physically fit
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| On some evil eye ready to die shit
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| This thug shit, niggaz get beat down and shot up I saw this one nigga, get stolen on and your soul got up Stolen car, roll past the bar, toured a lot of city
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| Gave him an eighth and he cooked his whole product
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| Its a shame how you cowards change the game for narcotic
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| You dont get it, dont got it, the love of money get exotic
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| If you old you get shot at, and cant walk the streets
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| Without gettin your lil money hungry soft ass spot
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| We adapt to the system like? |
| eddie bap? |
| on mission
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| Get an ounce of izm, two six-packs, and kid listen
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| Just a dip on the task, my little niggaz on the ave
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| Do a bid and laugh, come home and cop a half
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| Hit me with twenty hundred, what you got was fronted
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| Now run it, I got this fuckin drug spot where I want it So dont be dissin new, when you aint got shit to do Five thousand dollars, charge free, right out municipal
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| Niggaz get played off to the left like they was southpaws
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| Toss you to the outlawz, then let them shoot it out
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| For what you clock for -- got more than you expected
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| When I inject correct shit, it gets hectic
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| Fuckin comin up with that next shit, thug niggaz and bugged niggaz
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| Luce? |
| steel is tight, Im straight up like midnight
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| We burn mics on turnpikes, we swervin through the lanes
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| We throw chains at bitches, its back to new jeru to get these riches |