| Y’all gon' feel me on this one
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| Aight, real, real rap
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| Fuck is the deal, man?
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| It’s game over, raw coke on the mirror by the
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| Two dames on my shoulders, they hanging over, they training yoga
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| Sexin' them crazy, I’m sinking colas, I’m yanking molars
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| Like I’m supposed to, my main soldier swinging his toasters
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| Nigga hard, cold as a polar bear’s, bake from the rover
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| Three-leaf clovers if you ever thought my reign was over
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| The pipe game, I have him flying with his stinking odor
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| I push a button on your life like it’s a game controller
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| Mahogany bed with a mommy on the spread
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| I’m a monster nigga, turned into a zombie for this bread
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| Don’t think I’m claiming I’m banging cause their Mazi’s bloody red
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| The sawed-off double-barrel filled up with double lead
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| Fuck blowing your head off, I’ll blow your body from your head
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| It’s the return of a don
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| Got nothing but dick for the world
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| A kiss for mixing me wrong
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| It’s the return of a don
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| Homie, a rink is nothing
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| If, thanks for nothing
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| It’s the return of a don
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| Go in and tell every slinger that holds pimps
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| Tricks are charms
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| It’s the return of a don
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| And he about to get dirty
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| The hand goes as pearly, I’m going in early, I mean it |