| Yeah loser, well if you’re choosing to go against Jean
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| You better assemble a squad that’s better than the A-team
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| With the green hulk and shit that pop shirts
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| And a nigga with a shovel I can borrow when I drop the dirt
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| No lord, she’s gone bizzurk again
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| The fucking pen was dripping blood and vision was fuzzy, blurred and then she
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| murdered them
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| I flirt dirty visions mostly unheard from the mouths of women
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| I guess I’ve just been blessed with a criminal intuition
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| Spit with a girly voice and nerdy with prose
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| And fully dressed so no one accidentally trips and says, «Hold on a minute»
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| I flow so deep that I fall in it
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| Prolong words like penis and chokes that spin?
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| I’m like trying to get free drugs, no credit
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| So fuck the industry, album had no edits
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| And fuck Prada, man, I’ll? |
| cause I’m broke
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| And I’m sorry I gotta stay out of trouble, there’s no HMO medic
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| Ah forget it, I’ll just get off the syllable letter
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| Just fizzle like acid burning your flesh until it’s down to the gristle
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| You listening now? |
| Yeah, wow
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| Well piss in your mouth wit your own dick, come on niggas, fidget around
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| I’m about to get on everybody’s last nerve
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| Take half of your crowd, pimp them out, have them calling your house
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| Nah, just fucking around
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| Small time like I’m a bunch of horny niggas, circle jerking with your digits,
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| ow!
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| One for the ladies, two cops? |
| niggas on rooftops
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| Busting off shots with illegal 380's and drop
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| Three for me so I can easily triple it
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| Minus 8, double it, kick a mean 16
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| It’s Jean, sorry if the intro was vague
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| The surname is Grae, purpose of the words I say
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| Just to get the chance to play
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| And hurt the birds who don’t deserve to stay in it
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| So Black I’ll smack you right in your cap
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| So that your knee can grow
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| Old nigga, figure it out
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| It’s clever, so let’s sing it together
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| You don’t want it
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| You don’t really really want it
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| You don’t really… |