| I strike a load
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| You get served like we toke with
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| Fake busta get smoked with
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| Aproach it
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| I explode it
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| Unload it
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| Reload it
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| Unload again
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| And pull another left hand
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| Fifty shots to win
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| I can’t lose its impossible
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| Plus I got a chopper fifty shots about to droppin' you
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| I be 'bout strings hittin' the beef gigga head
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| Then leave the set, leave a beef gigga wet
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| Jet
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| Off the scene with the uptown fighter
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| Red dot sighters
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| All week night flighters
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| I’m a get ya', when ya' least expect it
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| Cock the glock jacket
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| A vest can’t protect it
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| Boy, is ya' ready
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| I’ll leave yo' set wetted
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| Slugs flyin' high, got yo' body real heavy
|
| You can’t move, ya' got buff
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| Now your stuck
|
| Left Wayne on the set, and yo' boys to pick you up
|
| Out cold
|
| Head swoll
|
| Eyes closed
|
| I know for sure
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| You ain’t gon' test me no more
|
| Yo' block tore
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| Yo' family in black clothes
|
| You got blowed
|
| And in ya chest is many holes
|
| This goes
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| For Lataranza Elmo
|
| I show
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| How uptown niggas roll
|
| Ya' big boy, me and my niggas did it to ya
|
| Automatic, black chopper trigger pullin'
|
| That’s how we be
|
| Loadin' clips then release
|
| Eight deep
|
| In the three-hundred E
|
| Leather seats
|
| And in the trunk artillery
|
| Up the streets
|
| Where I started sure ain’t for me
|
| The B.G.
|
| That’s the name I go by
|
| Test me
|
| You die S Kangol Y
|
| Hide out
|
| At the club, slide out
|
| Ride out
|
| Yo' block 'bout to die out
|
| Move ya' people
|
| I’m burnin' down the whole streets
|
| The night creepers
|
| 'bout to heat our enemies
|
| Lights off masks on, creep silense
|
| Lights gone
|
| We done left yo' block wired
|
| Retaliate
|
| Wait
|
| No your not boy
|
| 'cuz I’m a Hot Boy
|
| Nine milli cock boy
|
| Chopper gunnin'
|
| Hoes scared of slugs, runnin'
|
| Start movin', me and Juve (Juvenile) e be comin'
|
| We left yo' brain sick
|
| Up with a chopper (A.K. 47) splittin' the bricks
|
| A young black crucifix
|
| Up in the dirt I be knockin' dicks
|
| Smooth and beretically, my pockets
|
| Rocket
|
| To six figures
|
| And polverizin' niggas
|
| Pullin'
|
| A.K.'s and two triggers
|
| My potn’s stand on the side of me
|
| They only come out at night
|
| Them deamons got me on a flight
|
| Duck tapin' and takin' life
|
| Or even worse
|
| It could be three O’clock, on a Sunday by church
|
| Yo' brains might have to burst
|
| You shouldn’t have fucked with me first
|
| Since them bullets was cappin'
|
| Adam’s apples I’m scoutin'
|
| Got richer penintentiary ward
|
| For the national guard to come get 'em
|
| Very seldom do you see me, when you do
|
| What do you do
|
| Bust back, better be a head shot
|
| If not it’s you
|
| I’m comin' around the corner
|
| 'bout to pulla meatball on ya'
|
| Purses like a coat
|
| And them houses in calico
|
| Me and Lil Turk heard of a merger
|
| On a murder
|
| Fifty G’s (grand) on his head
|
| What ht fuck did you said
|
| Fifty G’s (grands) for sure
|
| That nigga live next door
|
| Call the man
|
| Let the sucker plan
|
| Look, I fuck with this rap shit, but I ask 'em don’t say no more
|
| A Hot Boy representin' this bitch like black and Moe
|
| I start to poppin'
|
| Niggas start to droppin'
|
| I’m havin' fatal thoughts, i think I’m fuckin' shell shockin'
|
| Niggas bangin'
|
| Four-five ringin'
|
| In my ear, I’m not scared
|
| 'cuz I’m a solja and solja’s have no fuckin' fear
|
| In my sleep at night
|
| I’m seeing war fights
|
| Wakin' up thinkin' that a nigga took my fuckin' life
|
| Unnecessary shit
|
| Mind clickin' like a light switch
|
| To pick you up on any nigga or any bitch
|
| Don’t give a fuck
|
| Steady bangin' and dodgin'
|
| Camoulflagin'
|
| With the mack alive and
|
| Don’t have time for these dog hoes
|
| Goin' through a stage with that chop (Chopper) and that four-four
|
| What’s this shit I hear 'bout you boys potna’s in crime
|
| If that’s true I’ll punish you bitches for the last time
|
| Now you gon' shine?
|
| Let me put somethin' on ya' mind
|
| Lil' cowards takin' hits
|
| And protecting shit
|
| It’s a for sure thang
|
| I’m a brang
|
| Or I’m a wet ya
|
| Best to be 'bout yo' business, if not, God bless ya
|
| Look, what makes you think that two-two-six wasn’t strong
|
| That’s when we do ya wrong
|
| They both come and they gone
|
| Off-toppers
|
| I’m a get with you and ya' potna’s (patners)
|
| T.C., L.D., and Williard street with choppers
|
| Drama hittin' a niggas cash
|
| We play it right though
|
| I’m comin' to get a niggas ass
|
| Like I’m them white folks
|
| Look, better be 'bout it
|
| If not better be rowdy
|
| It’s all in yo' mind, ha?
|
| You gon' shine, ha?
|
| I doubt it |