| Business as usual
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| Money on my mind I can feel it in my cubicle
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| Fuckin' 95 wasn’t made for a cubicle
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| Niggas know I’m raw-tuna roll
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| You know what it is kid ink up in this bitch
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| Hear that errr smell the scent
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| Bitch I’m all, all in
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| One hit and leave a niggas nose twitchin he wished it would
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| What I’m smokin on I sware to god I’m floatin in a drift
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| Alumni we the illest
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| Sicker than contagion
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| All up in your hood like my niggas workin' crankin'
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| Know that L.A. is the city but it look like we from Asia
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| Say I don’t be in my city? |
| Who the fuck is you pholasin
|
| Lets go!
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| Yeah!
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| Well Alright!
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| It go peter picked them peppers nigga I just picked them hoes
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| Swimin' in the money how I’m livin, boathouse
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| I don’t need a floaty cause I’m sittin' on a cloud
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| Tell the world kiss my ass head up look at me now bitch!
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| Back on immense, stack on stack I’m rackin' em' in
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| Sware that they ain’t fuckin' with me talkin all that essence
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| Yeah!
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| Bitch I’m blowin' up, cue the bomb
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| Niggas know I’m raw tuna roll
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| Batter up, I’m outta here
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| Find me in the cut like I live there
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| I’m the man in this bitch you just Tyler Perry
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| See me throwin' money in the sky til' I’m outta air
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| Sorry your honor but I had to kill em'
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| Niggas think they hard but they softer than pillows
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| And I’m high off a pill in the buildin' like dealers
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| Pissin' off the tenants give a fuck bout your feelings
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| Tell em!
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| I’m on!
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| Okay, snapback, hatback
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| Smokin' on that loud pack
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| Blow it to the ceiling, look like bombs over Baghdad
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| Bitch I’m more familie, even mobile phone to texts
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| I’m the realest on the at-list you can go and ask the masses
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| What up!
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| Hold up, have a taste
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| You ain’t gotta go to outer space
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| You can see the stars baby, welcome to the show
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| Yeah these niggas know I’m raw, tuna roll!
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| Alumini Bitch!
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| Wheels Up!
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| Niggas know I’m raw Tuna roll! |