| Yeah, we back
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| Back in Mohammad crib, nigga, top floor
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| The back room with just the one little small window, nigga
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| The light be comin' through it in the morning
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| Old-ass walls and shit
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| But it’s just like I remember, just like I wanted it
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| Yeah, I’m workin'
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| Yeah, I’m workin', nigga
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| Look, it’s the return of the Mr. Burn Suckers
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| Not herpes infested, just perfectly blessed with
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| A style that you can’t F with, protection recommended
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| ‘Cause Cole the definition of a weapon that can end it
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| You know, mass destruction when I mash the button
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| I take your favorite major rapper, left him independent
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| Cryin' in the corner
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| ‘Cause I ain’t into sorta kinda, dissin' niggas
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| I’m borderline addicted to slaughter
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| Line up niggas in order
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| Of who you think can really fuck with me most
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| Then I tuck the heat close, if he don’t duck then he ghost
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| Ain’t no need for discussion
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| If they weren’t talkin' 'bout the bread these motherfuckers be toast
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| Clap at the fake deep rappers
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| The OG gatekeep rappers
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| The would-you-take-a-break-please rappers
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| Bunch of words and ain’t sayin' shit, I hate these rappers
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| Especially the amateur eight week rappers
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| Lil' whatever — just another short bus rapper
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| Fake drug dealers turn tour bus trappers
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| Napoleon complex, you this tall rappers
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| Get exposed standin' next to 6'4″ rappers
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| The streets don’t fuck with you, you Pitchfork rappers
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| Chosen by the white man, you hit store rappers
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| I reload the clip, then I hit more rappers with that
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| Straight shittin' on these piss-poor rappers,
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| I’m back
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| Never knew a nigga that was better
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| Revenue, I’m good at gettin' cheddar
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| Reminisce on days I didn’t eat
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| If it’s meant to be, then it’ll be
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| If it’s not, then fuck it, I’ma try
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| Ain’t no need to ask the Father why, no
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| ‘Cause one day everybody gotta die
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| One day everybody gotta die, oh
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| One day everybody gotta die
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| One day everybody gotta die, my nigga, my nigga |