| Yea
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| Something for the radios
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| And all the, all the lo-lo's
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| You know what I’m saying
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| Mr. Kane and Tray Deee
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| From Pomona to the L.B.C
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| Goin down
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| Check it out
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| I used to live the killer tracks
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| And I’m from 21st street
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| House parties
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| Everbody brung heat
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| Dope dealers
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| All in the porch
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| Now we some killers
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| And blastin' on marks
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| No scrilla
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| Cause they get touched
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| And can you feel us
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| We kickin' up dust
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| We cap peelers
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| And don’t give a fuck
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| Breakout fool before you get bum-rushed
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| Twiddly dee dumb, ghetto star
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| I treat a trick bad like a base-head card
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| Fool I ain’t gonna get rich
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| While listening to them suckers
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| Cause if your pussy’d a indo blunt
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| I’d be high like a motherfucker
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| Now it’s a Pomona thing
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| Got no B.C. |
| thing
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| Let my nuts hang
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| Let me bang
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| Let me bang
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| On the first day of Christmas
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| My daughter gave to me
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| A .45 and a throwaway, G
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| I grew up on loud music
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| Similac and 40 ounce’s
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| Seen fools get killed
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| Before I could count
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| So ain’t nothing Hollywood about me, G
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| I’m straight corn feed
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| Grew up of government cheese
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| As with real O.G.'s who can’t bounce with these
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| Is this the dismissal
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| Like a hollow pointed bullet
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| I’m like Mr. Clinton
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| I ain’t afraid to pull it
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| We smoke the bomb sticky dosha'
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| Lookin' at these studio gangstas
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| Who gettin' older
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| Cause the industry is like the dope game
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| That’s why I used to call myself Kokane
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| Cause you don’t wanna funk with me
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| You’re funking with some real O. G
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| From Pomona to the L.B.C
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| It’s the Kane and the homie Tray Deee
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| Say, do you wanna bang with me
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| You’re funking with some real O. G
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| From Pomona to the L.B.C
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| It’s the Kane and the homie Tray Deee
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| We bust caps and ruff raps
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| Till the opponents collapse
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| Tray and Kane make it bang
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| Ain’t you knowin' the haps
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| This ain’t know puzzle
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| We out there bubble like champagne
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| Serving perpetraitors in and out this rap game
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| From the city with no pity
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| The corners of Pomona
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| I roll with only killers and my niggas
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| No baloney (bologna)
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| Out for getting over
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| Whatever get the chedder
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| The debt is on whoever
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| Not toghether with the, (bust that fool)
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| We above and money set and respect
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| No hesitation, or second thinking
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| Cause we living like some gangstas
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| Up against the odds, it’s a job to win
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| Where niggas steady tryna stop you oxygen
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| So I keep me some heat ignition, straight up
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| As soon as it’s beef fools get ate up
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| Cause it’s the west side
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| Where the best die for less
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| And niggas don’t mind putting life’s to rest |