| Geah, make a move y’all
|
| Which part you wan' lose?
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| The clip is loaded, the quatro is on cruise
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| I’m back to work bitch, the clock off snooze
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| I’m tougher than leather nigga I cannot bruise
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| Who wanna try a nigga?
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| Hard to the God, come and butterfly a nigga (hold that!)
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| Ooze on out (uh-huh)
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| Weeks later bitch go and throw your shoes on out
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| I’m that shit that great Mario Puzo 'bout
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| Clear this out, blood on the hopscotch floor
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| Shells in the sandbox; |
| niggas with big Glocks
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| Late night, movin that junk, like Redd Foxx
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| Now, you don’t want nothin about me (nah)
|
| You pussy, nigga come fuck with the alkie
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| Weed smokin, keep the cancer piece on it (yeah!)
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| Call hoes, get pussy whenever I want it (c'mere bitch)
|
| Mack daddy (no) pimp daddy (no)
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| Hammer cocked (yeah) let that, go
|
| I ain’t heard shit in a long long time
|
| To even fuck around with either one of my rhymes (Sheek Louch!)
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| Niggas still livin off the petty-ass crimes
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| The Hossa hater, Lacoste gator
|
| Levi’s, hundred to the Mr. Chow waiter
|
| Whattup street niggas? |
| Hold heat niggas
|
| FUCK sweet niggas, you’ll get beat niggas (yeah!)
|
| Now who out there wanna fuck around with me?
|
| You can come and get a fresh buck-50
|
| We got guns, money, liquor, drugs
|
| We right here until they come get me (I'm talkin 'bout murder)
|
| Now who out there wanna fuck around with me?
|
| You can come and get a fresh buck-50
|
| We got guns, money, liquor, drugs
|
| We right here until they come get me
|
| C’mon, yeah. |
| ah-HAH! |
| Nobody
|
| C’mon, yeah, c’mon, yeah, c’mon, yeah, yeah, uhh, yo
|
| Yo listen here, you ain’t dead if your heart ain’t stop
|
| Twin 40's, you ain’t gotta ask «Are they cocked?»
|
| I’m so sharp I could come through and scar they block
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| Late night, red linin in an R8 drop
|
| — And I’m only tuckin them until I shoot ya
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| When I pull 'em out that’s when I’m fuckin with your future
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| You gon' realize this is nothin that you’re used to
|
| Get your life tooken by a booster, then we gon' hang the noose up
|
| — It's all over with (yeah)
|
| — All they found was his Louis scarf with his DNA all over it (mm)
|
| — Who's choosin and pickin them (who?)
|
| Cause I’m sick of them, not followin the curriculum (yeah)
|
| It’s my shit and I’m evictin them (get out)
|
| Whoever feel like they ain’t gotta leave — I’m rippin them
|
| Even though the love’s frail the thug’s real
|
| All you gotta do is just follow the blood trail
|
| Much harder fightin when the battle is uphill
|
| — Whatever the knife can’t handle the slug will
|
| Keep a good lawyer that’s smart work on cases
|
| Still gotta run from the NARCs, they gon' chase us (run)
|
| In case I gotta put some artwork on faces
|
| If we leave the game for God they gon' +Mase+ us
|
| My suggestion, is that you don’t even test son
|
| Unless you wanna catch a fresh one
|
| Now who out there wanna fuck around with me?
|
| You can come and get a fresh buck-50
|
| We got guns, money, liquor, drugs
|
| We right here until they come get me (I'm talkin 'bout murder)
|
| Now who out there wanna fuck around with me?
|
| You can come and get a fresh buck-50
|
| We got guns, money, liquor, drugs
|
| We right here until they come get me
|
| Yeah, yeah, yeah!
|
| Let’s go |