| How cool is gang banging?
|
| It’s love when you and your homies hanging huh?
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| Your uncles head did it so it’s a chain reaction
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| Relate to your homies because them two are bastards
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| Feel that your hood colour look good in Jordans
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| Striking your name on the wall to feel important
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| Banging on niggaz hoping they push a line
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| Say the wrong street corner it’s go time
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| But ignorance is bliss because them fists are soon gon' turn into a bullet
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| If the index finger pull it cameras coming for the footage
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| Channel 9, Channel 11, Aiming Nines, Mack 11
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| Another baby for the reverend
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| Of the casks take action
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| In a matter of a second nothing matters when you reppin for your turf
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| Hold it down, have heart — Put in work
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| That’s the moral of the story when you’re worried and you’re wicked
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| And your ments will never get it
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| It’s a sickness when you kill your own kind
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| Different names different sides
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| But I could see it in your eyes
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| That you’re (just like me) and I’m (just like you)
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| Your (just like me) n I’m (I'm just like you)
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| It’s up to you to decide
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| How your gonna change your life
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| Your (just like me) n I’m (just like you)
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| Your (just like me) n I’m (just like you)
|
| How cool is selling drugs?
|
| It’s love when you and yours is making bucks huh?
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| Your uncles was hustlin' so it’s a chain reaction
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| Risking somebody’s house just to get it cracking
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| Now everybody see you as a D-Boy
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| You shinning bright now
|
| It was hard to be a decoy
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| Serving them junkies to get some quick cash
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| To give to your mama because she doing bad
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| Now bitches on yo dick and niggaz got their hands out like you holding something
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| If you don’t look out for nothin
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| Knock, knock, knock the feds are coming
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| You ain’t even really thinking
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| Cause your mind is on the money
|
| Jealous niggaz politicking on the plot to leave you bloody.
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| But your blinded because you shinning fiend want another hit
|
| So you serve him 30 minutes
|
| He O.D. |
| off the shit
|
| That’s the moral of the story when you’re greedy and you’re wicked
|
| But your mind will never get it
|
| It’s a sickness when you kill your own kind
|
| You ever throw your life away?
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| On this gang banging shit went off your brothers face
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| Or perhaps living in the fast lane
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| Selling drugs poisoning peoples brains
|
| It’s just a thought but don’t stress it man
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| Just know somebody’s mama out there sufferin'
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| Because she lost her baby to a stray bullet
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| Feel victim from all this gang shooting
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| Mmm mmm
|
| Man these niggaz out here walling
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| All the hooping and the hallan
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| Man, you rather sell some pot instead trying hit college
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| Where is all these father figures he either dead or locked in violents
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| Yet your mom never promised my nigga I’m being honest
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| Better wake up fast
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| Last of a dying breed
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| All I do is press facts, jack
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| Look, the moral of the story
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| Souring hearts will never feel it
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| Plus their minded is really twisted
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| It’s a sickness when you kill your own kind |