| I hate y’all duuuuuuudes
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| That get real life and rap confuuuuuuused
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| Don’t get it fucked up, and don’t get shoooot
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| Tryin to be somethin you’re nooooot
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| -- my niggas want war, whatchu think you good for?
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| Yeah you talk like them threats is real
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| A pine box, closed casket and mommy’s black dress is real
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| I only spit what I live, and I play my part, feds know
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| You just talkin burners cause your A&R said so
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| Don’t play the game like it’s just a scrimmage
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| Don’t think that what you hearrrin is just a image
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| How your songs though? |
| You never spent a day in the bing
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| Niggas is movin they mouths but they ain’t sayin a thing
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| Half y’all vets is heartless and rep regardless
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| Only time you seen a courtroom was pressin charges
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| How you baggin up white, but won’t scrap in a fight
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| Sheeeeit, c’mon mayne, shit ain’t addin up right
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| When shit’s thick, whatchu gon' do with that pound
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| But real recognize real, you must be new in this town
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| All I’m hearin is another nigga’s life over tracks
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| And you lames ain’t willin to lose your life over rap
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| Tired of hearin 'bout you rap dudes comin with the guns
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| Never caught a body, had the smell comin from the trunk
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| (And umm) I’m tired of hearin 'bout your 4's bust
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| While I was cuffed on a up North bus
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| Y’all fucked on a tour bus
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| All them stories 'bout you gettin money with gangsters
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| (Guess what?) The shit is pretty funny to gangsters
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| I’m tired of hearin 'bout that gat in your boot
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| Cause when it’s said and done
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| And you finished that rap in the booth, it’s back to the truth
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| And your shit is glass thug (and you) never outside
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| Cause youse a in the lab thug (youse a) pen and pad thug
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| It sounds good, you ain’t pushin work in the projects
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| But you spittin 'bout it when you work on your project
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| Clown answer back, y’all never seen the hammers flash
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| Just photo shoots when cameras flash
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| All I’m hearin is another nigga’s life over tracks
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| And you lames ain’t willin to lose your life over rap
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| In direct beef between rappers, they be all thugs
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| See each other in the street and dap, it’s all love
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| War stories ain’t yours about the pounds your man got
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| Only time you move bricks is when the SoundScan drop
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| You ain’t never cooked NOTHIN by that kitchen sink
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| And the only time you been behind bars was fixin a drink
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| You actin a fool, got real life and rap confused
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| With them ten o’clock songs, you just rappin the news
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| But I ain’t mad atcha flow, he tryin to stack his dough
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| But everybody’s a thug until them ratchets show
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| The same dudes that rap about (they get) stuck for all the 1's
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| And if everybody’s a killer, where the fuck is all the punks?
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| I hope you gettin your loot; |
| just remember
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| What you spit in the booth
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| There’s other people that’s livin proof
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| Y’all cats with all the mouth, just stay in your lane
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| And pray that a real NUCCA don’t decide to call you out |