| Killa, it’s The Off-Season
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| Let’s keep it tall, y’all ain’t fuckin' with my man
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| And don’t check your watch, you know the time
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| Cole World, Killa Cam', niggas is fuckin' finished (Yeah)
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| This shit too easy for me now
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| Nigga, Cole been goin' plat' since back when CDs was around
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| What you sold, I tripled that, I can’t believe these fuckin' clowns
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| Look how everybody clappin' when your thirty-song album do a measly hundred
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| thou'
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| If I’m bettin' on myself, then I’ll completely double down
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| If you hated on a nigga, please don’t greet me with a pound
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| I be stayin' out the way, but if the beef do come around
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| Could put a M right on your head, you Luigi brother now
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| Trace my steps all in this game, you could see we cover ground
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| Back and forth from NC to New York when Jeezy had the crown
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| Vivid memories, niggas start to squeeze, we duckin' down
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| So many shells left on the ground, it make the Easter Bunny proud
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| I get up, dust my clothes off, sleep is the cousin of death
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| No plans to doze off, the streets, it don’t come with a ref'
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| I never sold soft, just creeped where the hustlers crept
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| And got they O’s off, you reach, niggas uppin' like Steph
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| To blow your nose off, gesundheit, and then resume flight
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| As if it never happened, shit we witnessed full of so much sickness
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| Angels sheddin' tears in Heaven, word to Eric Clapton
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| Off this clever rappin', bitch, my pockets gon' forever fatten
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| They gon' forever fatten
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| See, we tried to tell niggas
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| They act like they don’t even fuckin' speak English
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| Bitch, my pen to the paper’s lethal
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| I’m sendin' 'em straight to meet the
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| The nigga that made them, peep the reaper
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| Creepin' on ya, the scent of failure reekin' on ya
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| Check your genitalia, pussy-niggas bleedin' on yourself
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| Fuckin' with Cole is bold, but it’s impedin' on your health
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| All yo' niggas eatin' off your wealth
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| All my niggas feedin' all they selves, and it feels swell
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| Krispy Kreme dreams, sometime my dawgs wanna kill 12 (Uh)
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| 'Cause they steady harassin'
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| We seen dilemmas like Nelly and Kelly that end in the deadliest fashion
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| My young niggas nutty, they blastin'
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| Bullets be hummin' like Cudi but one of yo' hoodies Spaghetti-O splashin'
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| All over the driveway, y’all talkin' all sideways
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| Shots poppin' off, y’all laid down
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| Cops chalkin' off y’all legs now
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| (Shit) God watchin', «Hey, Yahweh»
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| My niggas looked up to the sky like we sendin' 'em y’all way (Y'all way)
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| We sendin' 'em y’all way (Y'all way)
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| That’s what the fuck I’m talkin' 'bout
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| Y’all see what the fuck goin' on out here (Killa, Harlem)
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| I-95 shit, Carolina, 2−6, stand up, nigga
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| Put your hood up
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| Put your hood up
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| Put your hood up
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| Put your hood up
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| Put your clique up
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| Put your clique up
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| Put your clique up
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| Put your clique up
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| Represent your shit, motherfucker
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| Represent your shit, motherfucker
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| Represent your clique, motherfucker
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| Represent your clique, motherfucker
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| If you scared to throw it up, get the fuck out the club
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| If you scared to throw it up, get the fuck out the club |