| Natural Disasters
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| Kokane
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| What you wanna do, nigga
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| Now I only got a dub
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| But I’m rolling on some chrome in the '98, bud
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| Windows tinted
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| Fresh air sented
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| Nice gold trim with some super bumps in it
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| Haters hit the floor quick
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| Cause they jealous and they only full of rolleders? |
| shit
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| Like some bomb pass it once
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| And you cough cause it’s hard to control this shit
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| Now I’m back on my feet
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| Hear the homies calling shotgun
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| Windows lefts and right seats
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| But I ain’t got the air to burn
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| I’m the nigga behind the wheel
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| When it’s time to turn
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| Lean to the left
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| Watch your knees I’m about to lay back
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| To floss on the bitches
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| That I knew from way back
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| Go half for what I got
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| Store it straight in the tank
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| That don’t mean we can’t play big bank take little bank
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| Now I roll with a crew that ain’t afraid to funk
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| It’s the niggas coming through with the monster humps
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| Ahh-haa
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| And you don’t wanna fuck with me
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| We’re chillin' like this smokin' bomb ass weed
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| It’s the California lifestyle that you need
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| Ahh-haa
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| (ain't nothing like the real thing)
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| You don’t wanna fuck with me
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| I only got a dub
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| But I’m rolling on some chrome in the '98, bud
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| And I’m the nigga with the bud
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| Plus
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| Rolling shotgun with the .38 slug
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| I only got a dub
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| But I’m rolling on some chrome in the '98, bud
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| Rolling shotgun with the .38 slug
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| Reminiscing on some gangsta tales
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| As I roll up a fatty
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| Eating chicken like a motherfucker, rolling my Caddy
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| I said I sag so low
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| You can see the shit stains in my drawers
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| Drinking a 40 holding my balls
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| Saying yes yes ya’ll
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| The party don’t stop all night long
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| I make the gangsta shit that make ya C-walk on
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| Fuck it, nigga, what you know about the S-I
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| Real you don’t die nigga we multiply nigga
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| Miami Cubans use to have hook ups on that ya'
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| But nowadays they ain’t fucking with the Ese
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| The caliente
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| What seeds? |
| I know they smoke that bomb ass weed
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| It’s the California lifestyle that you need
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| I sit alone in my room and I’m starin' at candles
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| Everyday trying to get a handle
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| On this California game
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| California change get ya caught up
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| Fucking with these nigga’s man’e
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| Mamma said there be days like this
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| So I never trust a bitch
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| I learn the game and get rich
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| Nigga’s throw curve balls
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| While I swing at their pitch
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| Dust they ass of and throw 'em in a ditch
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| Riding coffin? |
| a fresh Monte Carlo
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| On gold one’s with the shoe laces
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| Ain’t nobody trippin' just paper chasing
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| Why you bitch niggas keep player hating
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| I’m taking my time concentrate on the future
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| And money banking lucifer got me on one
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| Roots of all evil benjamin? |
| of the world
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| I’m trying to get a piece god forgive me
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| Keep my family give my hands?
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| For when I die I don’t wanna be no broke man
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| It’s getting hot I’m slowly losing my cool
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| Way crazy 5150 acting a fool
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| It’s hard to get to town? |
| these days
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| Wake up at 9 o’clock get drunk as fuck
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| And think of ways to get paid
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| Can I can I get a ride |