| My dog fresh out the box
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| He back to totin' Glocks
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| He catch a fit, then he back out there tryna shop for opps
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| Niggas gettin' zipped for all that gangsta shit they was tryna pop
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| Niggas cannot slip, 'cause the problem is that they would not make it out
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| I made it out the trenches even though they had they doubts
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| I made it out, now my car cost the same price as a house
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| Racks, I’m thumbing 'em, ayy, ayy
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| Got a pack, fell in love with my baby
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| Got 'em on the streets with the throwaway
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| Choppas slidin' me, blow his nose away
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| I don’t know how to smoke, Mary Jane
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| Choppa with the scope, I’m bringing pain
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| Can’t love these hoes, they fuckin' for fame
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| Just be fuckin' these hoes, I don’t even know they name
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| If you ask for my gang, you wouldn’t even know the half
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| I don’t even pillow talk, I don’t even like to brag
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| Jump fresh out, elevated my swag
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| My nigga jumped out, went back sellin' slabs
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| Them niggas I know, they don’t know how to dab
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| All they know, cook, cut, hit the pot with a jab
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| My other niggas scam, got rich off a letter
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| Ballin' hard for the crib, don’t need no bread talk
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| Drippin' in designer, I’m a Dior mascot
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| All this cash money, I can make yo' bitch bedrock
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| Dope dick, she’s hoppin' on it, ooh, Fentanyl
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| Leavin' me for dude? |
| Ho, you better not
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| Fly lil' nigga, I can pull up in a jet now
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| Came up quick, other niggas would’ve wrecked out
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| Baptize the money, bank account real blessed now
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| Thank the Lord I made it, I ain’t gotta be stressed out
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| Aiming for your head, no need to bring your vest out
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| Biggie run up, fuck it, go and knock your legs out
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| Fuck a Hellcat, big dog, bring your lens out
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| Stick in the hood, I ain’t tryna throwin' hands now
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| My dog fresh out the box
|
| He back to totin' Glocks
|
| He catch a fit, then he back out there tryna shop for opps
|
| Niggas gettin' zipped for all that gangsta shit they was tryna pop
|
| Niggas cannot slip, 'cause the problem is that they would not make it out
|
| I made it out the trenches even though they had they doubts
|
| I made it out, now my car cost the same price as a house
|
| Racks, I’m thumbing 'em, ayy, ayy
|
| Got a pack, fell in love with my baby
|
| Got 'em on the streets with the throwaway
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| Choppas slidin' me, blow his nose away |