| How many niggaz fell victim to the streets
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| Rest in peace young nigga, it’s a heaven for a G
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| I’d be a liar if I told you that I never thought of death
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| My nigga, we the last ones left (l-look) l-look (l-look)
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| I said — how many niggaz fell victim to the streets
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| Rest in peace young nigga, it’s a heaven for
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| I’d be a liar if I told you that I never thought of death (l-look look)
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| My nigga, we the last ones left; |
| but life goes on And I ain’t gon’stop 'til a nigga see blood on the wall!
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| L-look, look, look, look
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| Maybe it started with the rims on the whip
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| Uh, I lost the Hummer, push the Benz through the strip
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| But I’ll swim with the fish before I lend niggaz shit
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| Cause personally, they ain’t worth the phlegm that I spit
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| That’s why, sometimes I think the end’s comin quick
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| My old ass father shot twins out his dick
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| So, if they so happen to come out without a older brother
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| Won’t be alone cause comin up at least they’ll have each other
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| At least they’ll one another cause life’s a muh’fucker
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| But while I’m here my only job is not to see 'em suffer
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| Through dope boys, shootouts, stick-ups and undercovers
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| The world is full of suckers but don’t worry, I’m your buffer
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| Buffer, like I shoulda been for BJ
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| Well he never listened to nothin we say
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| (It was) half past 12, midnight on a weekday
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| Not even 20 hours past his release date, we stay
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| This nigga hit him up four times, one kick the heart
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| And that kicked my heart
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| Call his pops, niggaz pick the phone up So he can come find his son lyin in his own (blood) blood
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| On the block that we ran through
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| House we grew up in, corner we would post on Shot dead in front of niggaz we would be with
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| But how the fuck nobody see shit? |
| (nigga)
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| It’s on there to be a brother to his brother lucky
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| Cause in the belly of the beast I know this shit get ugly
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| Get on my knees and have a convo with the Lord above me Maybe sometimes I hear him wrong, I think he sayin «Fuck me»
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| Only he could judge me, care less what they thinkin of me Cause honestly I’d be aight if no one ever love me (love me)
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| I write «I only fear Joe"in blood
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| Smeared slow on my brain by my earlobe (earlobe)
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| And I ain’t gon’stop 'til a nigga see blood on the wall!
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| Y-yo, yo, yo All I tried do is raise the bar
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| See my, weeks is scabbed up, days are scarred
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| Still I love to see a muh’fucker hate from far
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| More they talk 'bout me the more I pray for y’all
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| I mean, I don’t get how Prodigy gon’acknowledge me When the nigga 'bout as big as an apostrophe (ohh!)
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| For him to possibly think that he is hot as me is far from a prophecy, it’s more like a mockery
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| Used to be hip-hop to me, 'fore you bombarded me with everything ass like side of me has gotta be drugs
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| Four-fifths and snubs, what’s that about?
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| Nigga you can’t lift the guns that you rappin 'bout
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| But real talk, I can’t front on your old shit
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| Now you just old as shit! |
| Not old and sick
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| 'Stead of holdin my dick, here’s a better way (dawg)
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| Never mind me, worry about your Medicaid
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| … Shit’s so unfair
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| Nigga beats carried your ass most of your career
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| Wanna blog, here’s a reason — I FUCKS «Murda Music»
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| Anybody ever dissed this nigga is still breathin
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| Jay-Z, Saigon, Nas already peeled him
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| 2Pac, he ain’t alive but you ain’t kill him
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| 50 signs the bum only cause where he was from
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| Put his stamp on a nigga and still nobody feels him
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| Not a murderer, a gangsta, robber
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| Washed up 90's nigga, now a gangsta blogger
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| Me that, underground flow strike like the pound blow
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| Your sound’s old, not even worth a download
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| I would have niggaz hunt you like a hound’s nose
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| Problem is you pussy, the whole town knows
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| So why let the body count grow
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| for some fiend-out nigga now starrin in a clown show (clown show)
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| And I ain’t gon’stop 'til a nigga see blood on the wall! |