| Tiki torch spark up my blunt
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| Fuck niggas hate if they want
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| The young bull got no need to front
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| Tell 'em I’ll meet 'em out front
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| Tell my girl leave it to me
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| Cause this shit’s easy to see
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| Nah, I can’t leave it to you
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| Look my Mercedes is blue
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| I hop inside it and I suicided
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| I can’t keep it private
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| My hair, I can’t dye it
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| The streets seek the real, I’m just here to provide it
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| I’m here to supply it
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| Don’t call me the plug, don’t call me the plug
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| If you know that it’s fake, don’t show me no love
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| And she wanna fuck wit' us, we modern day hustlers
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| You know that we double up, she know that we comin' up
|
| You know where we coming from, yeah yeah yeah yeah
|
| You know that we comin' up, you know where we coming from
|
| Got dawgs in the slammer, can’t get caught up on camera
|
| I’m so Houstatlanta, mixed with some 'bama
|
| You know that I roll tight, roll tight, yeah, yeah
|
| And my shorty know it’s all mine, all mine, yeah, yeah
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| Yeah, I run it up like all time, all time, yeah, yeah
|
| Yeah, the numbers don’t lie lil' bitch (winner, gagnant)
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| Swear to God I’ll die for the six, I’mma ride for this shit, aww
|
| Gotta keep it close, gotta ride wit' the stick, yeah, yeah
|
| Gotta hit quick to get everything you wish, awww
|
| Tiki torch spark up my blunt
|
| Fuck niggas hate if they want
|
| The young bull got no need to front
|
| Tell 'em I’ll meet 'em out front
|
| Tell my girl leave it to me
|
| Cause this shit’s easy to see
|
| Nah, I can’t leave it to you
|
| Look my Mercedes is blue |