| Peep game from the mack on track with these
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| Got the tapes and the wax, checking stacks with ease
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| ‘Cause it’s the Bigga, the Figga, the ones who came to see ya
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| A funky type of style of rappin' ‘cause we flowin' like a river
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| Never ever ever have you seen a player like me
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| Poppin' so swell, I got the clientele
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| So what’s up, what’s up? |
| Can I pass to my brother?
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| Don’t get mad because we bounce like rubber
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| Now I told ya, we wasn’t gon' stop ‘til we major
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| Hooked up flights with Skynet pagers
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| From coast to coast, we won’t brag or boast
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| We’ll take a toast, to the boys that flow, you know
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| Me and D-Moe, two playas from the Get Low
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| Straight up outta Frisco, so now you suckas kniz-know
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| Feel the flow, feel the flow, I know you know we good to go
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| We mackin' ‘em and stackin' ‘em, and afterward, we crackin' ‘em
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| We packin' ‘em up, we wrappin' ‘em up, we shippin' ‘em off to Boston
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| They try to play some players so you know it’s gonna cost ‘em
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| It ain’t no thang to make it swang and make the beat saucy
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| Write the raps, lay the tracks, then you know it’s bossy
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| Peep game
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| Just P-double E-P some G-A-M-E
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| From D-dash-M-O-E, the Y-O-U-N-G
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| S-T-izA, ‘cause in 9-trizzay
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| I gotta get paid and can’t fade minimum wage
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| ‘Cause I be comin' saucy like spaghetti, tryna get my fetti
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| Do you feel me? |
| ‘Cause I felt me
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| Now tell me do I need to be bad like hangin'
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| On the turf moving work, smoking dank? |
| Nope
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| I’m posted in the studio like daily
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| Keepin' funky verses but the radio won’t play me
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| They say we always cuss every time I start to bust
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| And plus at a concert, my homies from the hood kick dust
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| But a must is a must, so we must get our currency
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| Tapes and concerts, posters and CD’s
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| So take a piece of game from a brother that’s a gamer
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| Put me in your clip, and cock me in your chamber
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| ‘Cause we be shootin' lyrics like a 4−5
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| And we be poppin' game like a Tec-9
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| So respect mine and the rest of GLP
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| And one love to my folks and for Jt
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| Peep game
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| It’s like a gangbang thang, mayne, the way the beat just gon' swang
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| But only gang that we bang is checkin' mail for our game
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| My homie O-Z-D-to the R-to the E, upcoming rapper from the SFC
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| Brought it to my attention I need to mention some of my generosity
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| Addicted by them rappers, them none act street jackers
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| Put out our own tapes and turf out here to be nothin' but packers
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| So that’s what me and D-Moe do, so do the dope to take advantage of the rap game
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| Poppin' so swell, being in the game in ‘85 and ain’t nothin' changed
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| Living the game, so insane, tryna maintain my currency
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| Does work off in the dirt, steady tryna murder me
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| The Y-the B-the G is coming sicker than a flu
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| On some liquor when his finger’s on the trigger
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| Peep game |