| Verse one
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| You can’t even picture tho'
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| examples, and shit ya wrote
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| I run up on ya faggot ass fast, and slit ya throat
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| carry my weight like luggage, my bone is thuggish ruggish
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| it’s on from storm, I’m wearin’the teflon vest
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| rest in born in rubbish, free spots, and Ez spots
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| rock like Holly Mzots, one of the top notches of the block
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| and I hardly touch my Pz knots, three point five
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| thirtys doin’dirty twenty five, to glit money live
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| I flip, tell’em shit to Nix
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| hang ya picture, throw’em all that
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| sippin’on that, you ain’t hard that
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| ah, you fallin’to buildin'
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| I’m like where’s ya heart at
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| I’m lack as communcations, to the nation I wanna talk
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| Cuz, bitch wuz born to hawk, won’t slove ya town
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| and get torn apart, times wastin'
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| — It's the life that you live, when your hangin’on
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| bein’a thug, and you tryin’to get you shit off
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| how do you do it? |
| How do you swing it? |
| (2x)
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| It’s no way out the game
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| you can’t see it Verse two
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| The devil don’t want me yet, so I pack teks
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| writin’out my will, wit a black cease a rep
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| I handle mics, like Hardaway
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| and never get stripped, bust ya boy shit
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| when he ridin’on my dick
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| nigga ya foulin’out, hackin’me wit the wack rhymes
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| grabin’ya nine, shootin’scared tryin’snatch mine
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| I murder niggaz, like you on the humble tip
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| and use murderin’Al, cuz he don’t bull shit
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| they scared of me, so they ran and got they homies
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| thinkin’the tendaroonies, Fatal dog, I’ll lonely
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| fuck me, just stuck me like you wanna love
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| I play every co’na, and ain’t a damn nigga stuck me
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| I’m fresh out of jail, and caught a body on a hoe
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| beatin’down slow, cuz you niggaz, don’t know
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| Verse three
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| Immortal outlaw, come hold a mack eleven, south board
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| my clout board, i’m clockin’spots down south soar
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| I’m bad company, these cats be huntin’me
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| frontin', and say they dumped at me but scared to smoke a blunt, I dump on three and act quick
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| have shit, in ma jacket, bullet burn like acid
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| when I fire, and rapid, you can take it from the block
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| I’ll be glockin’till I drop, a deuce deuce
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| on my boots, wit the chocolate, on top
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| I can’t be stoped, wiled like al, named Kadafi
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| nigga watch me, told me these streets iz black hockey
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| told me I’ll play the goalie, wit the four four caliber
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| slipt ya mellon like galier, when i rip this bumpin up out of ya leaven hotter then scorns, hot spots and co’nas
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| don’t say I ain’t wanted, when you be got you’ll be co’ned
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| these streets ain’t half steppin', they got weapons for ain’t shady
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| if you ain’t shelled, lately, they got places for public safety, times wastin' |