| Yeah, yeah
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| Woohoo
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| Most incredible
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| Yes
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| Young
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| Yeah
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| Woohoo
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| Niggas do the tough guy thing, but the streets know
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| Then they tryna front on my city like we ain’t cooking dope
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| Murders on the tv screens, what’s it good for?
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| Price tag on my back, what’s it hitting for?
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| Murder rate rising nigga, over multiplying digits
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| Thought that was yo mans until he went and testified against you
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| All my niggas co-defendants, all my bitches independent
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| Realest nigga of the century, whip sitting on twenty inches
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| Had to get it from the trenches, give it to my home, nigga
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| How you sending statements to the States, it be your own niggas
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| Headshots took off, seats Grey Poupon from jawns that I pooped on
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| I splash, I don’t sing songs, Pimpstro
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| Hit 'em with the pole and make the bed rock
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| Pill pop, hit 'em with the soda, make it lead lock
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| Headshot, I remember we was kicking verses
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| Used to dream of rocking stages, nigga, we was stealing purses
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| Yung Purple
|
| Now I was talking to my mother one day and she told me
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| «Boy there are two kinds of people in this world:
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| The type of people that look, and the type of people that see
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| Now everybody that sees is looking, but you can’t see without looking
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| But everybody that looks can’t see
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| And you gotta see, 'cause you gotta see the plays
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| You gotta make the plays boy, you gotta make the plays well
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| You gotta make the plays 'cause the plays ain’t gon' make themselves
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| Feets with the Ziploc bags, I got the stash spot
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| The fiend for the shoe box cash, I picked the padlock
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| And I fronted your mans that was the past opp
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| The click blast in front of your mans, you niggas mascots
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| Murder was the mindstate, boosting up the crime rate
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| You ain’t getting money 'less you see that shit in five states
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| Crack kills, crime pays, I’m getting to it nine ways
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| I stacking all my hundreds 'till they taller than Le— |