| It’s enemy turf that I’m on, so I’ma play it how it go
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| Cock the hollow points into my black calico
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| Hit the coat with some of grams of that dope fo' sho' it’s bout to go
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| Niggas graduated from sellin' dope to snortin' dope
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| Gangsta be bustin' heads
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| Lil Reggie be bustin' heads
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| K.C., he be bustin' heads
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| Think I ain’t 'bout nustin' heads
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| Boddies bled, I’ll put infrared up in your Cutlass
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| You play with 226, that’s my clique so I say fuck it
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| Ruckus, war deep, World War III in the mix
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| 5 Hot Boy$ runnin', bringin' G’s to they clique
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| With them hundred round tip-tips, to make sure niggas ain’t breathin'
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| You recievin', a punishment for not believin'
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| Curly head lookin' for me, 'cause I’m hot and word don' got loose
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| Bundles of dope fronted, from the Magnolia to the Goose
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| Snitches wanted to testify the shit that they know
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| Set a bomb on the front door, put a key in the door and the place blow
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| Look I been walkin' way mo', with a coat full of yeh-yo
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| Nothin' but clientele, from 11−5, sale
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| You don’t think it’s legal, nigga we can take it to the scale
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| You gon' double your money, gon' get credit make your bail
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| With that iron, I’ma roll wit' 'em, momma don’t pray for me
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| I don’t back down frome no nigga, they got a place for me
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| With that iron, I’ma roll wit' 'em, momma don’t pray for me
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| I don’t back down frome no nigga, they got a place for me
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| With that iron, I’ma roll wit' 'em, momma don’t pray for me
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| I don’t back down frome no nigga, they got a place for me
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| With that iron, I’ma roll wit' 'em, momma don’t pray for me
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| I don’t back down frome no nigga, they got a place for me
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| My biological father, was a sperm donor, around the corner
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| Was the man that killed lil Lanny, who knew we’d understand it
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| That way that, my mother was heartless to her kids
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| So he took us in his home, and he raised like his own
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| Now we grown, and we learned responsibility
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| The devil tryed to get wit me
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| To affect all of my dickin' inability
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| But it’s gon' be some shit, when a collision is occurin'
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| Asurin', of me bein' a factor, through '97 and after
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| And I’ma have to, get my ten percent
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| Or I’ma get punished, like the rest of these niggas and there’s evidence
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| 'Cause ever since all these cars and all these mansions, and all these
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| Luxuries was givin'
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| You wasn’t givin' no thanks, to the reason you was livin'
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| So I’mma keep an open mind and make the right decision
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| And ain’t tell you niggas shit, and put my self in a position
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| That’s unescapable, 'cause you capable, of puttin' my life in danger
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| And it’s causin' confusion, confusion draw conclusion
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| And shootin' up some niggas that pose a threat
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| Until somebody warns you that you’re close to death
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| With that iron, I’ma roll wit' 'em, momma don’t pray for me
|
| I don’t back down frome no nigga, they got a place for me
|
| With that iron, I’ma roll wit' 'em, momma don’t pray for me
|
| I don’t back down frome no nigga, they got a place for me
|
| With that iron, I’ma roll wit' 'em, momma don’t pray for me
|
| I don’t back down frome no nigga, they got a place for me
|
| With that iron, I’ma roll wit' 'em, momma don’t pray for me
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| I don’t back down frome no nigga, they got a place for me
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| Don’t love ya, don’t need ya, so why the fuck would I feed ya
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| You bitches want my riches, delete ya
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| 'Cause it’s movin', it’s shakin' number one spot takin'
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| Rap shite tight and money we be makin'
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| Clock six figures, with brown beats and triggers
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| Drinkin' from the riggers, poppa said the gon' fig us
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| Everything I make, and everything I drive
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| Everything I scratch and everything I ride
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| Touch it,, live for it, you niggas kill for it
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| The new Juve tape, got you hoes loosin' weight
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| Can’t get your life straight, music to masturbate
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| Test a, nigga like me boy and you better
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| Have on your bulletproof sweater, ridin' in an armored Jetta
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| Beware of these, thugs in E’s
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| Everytime you breathe you recievin' a part of me
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| Look, my lyrics be combustable like gases
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| When I’m grabbin' for the mic and performin' for your masses
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| I’m never found on the ship that’s steady sinkin'
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| Total control and all about self my way of thinkin' |
| Bankin', off top, runnin' with them boys from the block
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| Totin' Glocks that we only use when we put on the spot
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| Now I got, a reason to live for than to die
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| Keepin' a tight inventory on my supply, of gettin' high
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| Know when to stop, don’t wanna be it, can’t even see it
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| Not even them little niggas that I be wit'
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| With that iron, I’ma roll wit' 'em, momma don’t pray for me
|
| I don’t back down frome no nigga, they got a place for me
|
| With that iron, I’ma roll wit' 'em, momma don’t pray for me
|
| I don’t back down frome no nigga, they got a place for me
|
| With that iron, I’ma roll wit' 'em, momma don’t pray for me
|
| I don’t back down frome no nigga, they got a place for me
|
| With that iron, I’ma roll wit' 'em, momma don’t pray for me
|
| I don’t back down frome no nigga, they got a place for me
|
| With that iron, I’ma roll wit' 'em, momma don’t pray for me
|
| I don’t back down frome no nigga, they got a place for me
|
| With that iron, I’ma roll wit' 'em, momma don’t pray for me
|
| I don’t back down frome no nigga, they got a place for me
|
| With that iron, I’ma roll wit' 'em, momma don’t pray for me
|
| I don’t back down frome no nigga, they got a place for me
|
| With that iron, I’ma roll wit' 'em, momma don’t pray for me
|
| I don’t back down frome no nigga, they got a place for me
|
| With that iron, I’ma roll wit' 'em, momma don’t pray for me
|
| I don’t back down frome no nigga, they got a place for me
|
| With that iron, I’ma roll wit' 'em, momma don’t pray for me
|
| I don’t back down frome no nigga, they got a place for me
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| I’m gettin' tired, of this bulshit that we hearin'
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| I’m gettin' tired, 'bout to get my iron ready to ride
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| Ready to ride
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| Ready to ride
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| Ready to ride, lil wodie
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| Momma don’t pray for me, I don’t back down frome no nigga
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| Momma don’t pray for me, I don’t back down frome no nigga
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| Momma don’t pray for me, I don’t back down frome no nigga |