| Money on my mind, on my waist be that strap
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| Bitch don’t fuck with my grind, nigga you dying in that stack
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| No joke witchya, self made
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| I’m a dope dealer in the drug game
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| Don’t encroach nigga, we play for keeps
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| We lay in sheets, these bitches don’t want no broke nigga
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| Money on my mind, on my waist be that strap
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| Bitch don’t fuck with my grind, nigga you dying in that stack
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| No joke witchya, self made
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| I’m a dope dealer in the drug game
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| Don’t poach nigga, we play for keeps
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| We lay in sheets, these bitches don’t want no broke nigga
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| Intensity beats ex-tensity every time
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| That’s why I go hard on every rhyme (go hard nigga)
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| That’s why I thank god for every line
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| I know I’m more advanced than you, demolished it when I’m barely tryin'
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| Hard shit, bitches all on my dick, they hanging on my Calvin Klein
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| I’m an outcast and I got 3,000, big boys with me
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| Nigga sit down or get war with me, I’m dropping bombs all over Baghdad
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| And a bitch bound to get more from me, if she or get whores for me
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| I used to smoke weed with a gas mask, but never got high until 10,
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| 000 feet in the sky in an aircraft
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| Counting money that come out of a trash bag
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| I’m a dope boy, I sold cocaine you never had that
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| I’m a whole brick and you a gram bag, I’m a scientist and you a lab rat
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| Now show me where the Kraft at (money nigga), I need real cheese
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| I’m a fresh prince you gotta feel me, I keep a Smith & Wesson and I will squeeze
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| But I got Reggie Miller shooters, I ain’t gotta take the shot
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| I’m sharp as Shannon when I move the white, even sell the Reggie to make ends
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| meet
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| Troy Ave nigga, in my blow bag nigga
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| 35 for the kilos, get mine at the oh yeah nigga
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| Up my chips every flipper, fish scale, Mr. Flipper
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| Wait a minute for dinner, I’m in the kitchen with whipper
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| Stuttering going dummy, No other thoughts but the money
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| Get it sweeter than honey, you know how T-Roy be done-y
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| Mobbing deep cause you nervous, it just be me during murders
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| Kept it low from surver-lance, I mean surveillance we circus
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| Cash business you know, family, religion, and dough
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| Been got my momma in snow, they made me the man that you know
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| I talk that shit when I flow, and it be facts
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| Only nigga from my block bought a big body Benz off crack
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| Don’t play me for no sucka nigga, you can’t afford that reverend
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| I came up from the dirt, made 6 figures now on 7
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| Mill-ions, still keep me a milly on
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| I go stupider and get silly on one
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| Real nigga, for real yelling «free Run B» on a pill we on
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| Them Margiela kicks turn dirt as thick, say they ain’t the shit, bitch please
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| Came from the bottom, you won’t make it out and nigga barely see 16
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| Cut their tongues out their mouth, fuck niggas just thinking ain’t shit sweet
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| Not paying your dues, mention my city and I dare you get me
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| On dough Imma flip out, watch 'em go scrammin like the 12 comin
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| The 40 go pow when the whip out, but these niggas really ain’t know nothin
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| (they frontin')
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| We know fishing rod and we’re catching out the money sea?
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| I got good aim, I’ll blow the back out of every nigga tryna front on me
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| Let me tell you how I do a fuck nigga, catch em we’ll empty outta clip like it
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| ain’t no thang
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| And I’m riding around with the motherfucker in my coat right now,
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| think it ain’t gon' bang
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| Getting high with a brand new bitch in a brand new car getting the same old
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| brain
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| I’m a zone 1 A-town Bankhead nigga, been serious, nigga, it ain’t no game
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| Imma trap 'till it’s finished, remember me
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| I was standing on the corner when I was supposed to be in school,
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| crack what we dealing
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| Handle my business get the money until it’s stacked to the ceiling
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| Pussy nigga I would rather be the villain
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| In the Bentley with a couple hundred mill, all the racks we be spending get a
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| fuck nigga buried
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| In a motherfucking hearse, but nigga I ain’t worried |