| Everytime they call ya, they want something
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| They hit ya ‘til your cash is flat
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| Nothing left to add to that
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| I’ma be real with it, I don’t see how you still kick it
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| They don’t see you as a friend, they see you as a meal ticket
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| When they call, you already know they ‘bout to go live
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| They either need some money, a place to stay or a ride
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| Soon as you answer the phone, they ready to mash ya
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| Especially when they start with «Man, I sure hate to ask ya»
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| And then they start beggin' hard as hell
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| You said you didn’t wanna ask, fool, I can’t tell
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| You straight roachin', man, don’t act like you wasn’t
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| You ain’t said how ya been, how your mama doin' or nothing
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| You just went in, dropping that sad story in fact
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| All that’s missin' is a violin playin' in the back
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| What’s real crazy, you ain’t heard from this cat in so long
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| That you ain’t recognize the number when it came on your phone
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| You took a chance, now you’re dealing with something you didn’t plan
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| And now you’re mad at yourself, saying, «I knew I shouldn’t’a answered ‘cause
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| Everytime they call ya, they want something
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| They bleed ya ‘til your cash is flat
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| Nothing else to add to that
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| Everytime they call ya, they want something
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| They bleed ya ‘til your cash is flat
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| Ain’t nothing else to add to that
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| Whenever they hit you now, you duckin'
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| They leave a message sayin', «Boy, you should a hard man to get in touch with»
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| Yeah you right, I can’t rock with you, brotha
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| ‘cause I ain’t takin' care of you, homie, I’m not your mother
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| They’ll pop up at your crib, yeah they just that raw
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| Got you hiding in your house like you duckin' the law
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| They’ll ask you for anything you got under the sun
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| Talkin' ‘bout «Let me use your car, I need to make a few runs»
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| Boy, I almost told you something, man, this ain’t no bluff
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| People with nothing have no problems tearing up yo stuff
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| And when you ask about your money and them giving it back
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| They be like, «That was months ago, you still trippin' on that?»
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| Don’t let ‘em come up, they get so fly that it ain’t even funny
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| «Man, you blowin' up my phone over that punk ass money?»
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| See you was cryin' when you borrowed it, I’m tellin' your secret
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| You sure right, since it’s like that, you’re good, you can keep it
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| It’s like
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| Everytime they call ya, they want something
|
| They bleed ya ‘til your cash is flat
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| Nothing else to add to that
|
| Everytime they call ya, they want something
|
| They bleed ya ‘til your cash is flat
|
| Ain’t nothing else to add to that
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| Stop lettin' ‘em put your bank account to regular use
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| I hate when people use their children as a begging excuse
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| «I gotta get junior some school clothes and don’t know how»
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| You got two hundred dollar tennis shoes on right now
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| It’s like they know that they a roach and they just tryna provoke
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| You ain’t heard from ‘em since the last time they was broke
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| He asked for some gas money, yeah I showed him some love
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| But it wasn’t to go to work, he tryna go to the club
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| It’s a bum at the corner store that’s always after me
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| I paid him so much it’s like I got him on salary
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| Any users that I ever knew I left them dudes
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| You owe me, why you asking me to help you move?
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| You got the messy kind, let me know if this type fit 'em
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| They start beefin' and expect you to come fight with 'em
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| No sir, no ma’am, you hopin' they leave you alone
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| And when you block 'em, they just call you from a whole other phone because
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| Everytime they call ya, they want something
|
| They bleed ya ‘til your cash is flat
|
| Nothing else to add to that
|
| Everytime they call ya, they want something
|
| They bleed ya ‘til your cash is flat
|
| Ain’t nothing else to add to that |