| I shoot you out your body
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| Perform the séance with a fucking shotty
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| I wear a ski mask so that nobody identify me
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| Grimy and grizzly, throw you to the pitbulls like a Frisbee
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| Then feed the pieces of you that they bring me
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| Maby your arm, leg, leg, arm, and your head
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| Even God turned his back on you, homie, you’re dead
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| Just a fragment of your former possibilities and aspirations
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| A casualty in the civil war of a gangster nation
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| My generals plot the death to millions
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| The media spread lies and cash checks for trillions
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| I organize crime: money and murder synchronized beyond time
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| I move mountain tops without trying
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| I move buildings like super villains
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| Throw penthouses of people and fist-fuck porno movie bitches
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| Like BangBrothers.com, got money in my palm
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| No love, no smiles, ain’t nothing funny, y’all
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| I come from where hope goes to die
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| (Where dreams get crushed and the bullets fly!)
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| I come from where hope goes to die
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| La Coka Nostra till I die!
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| Peckerwood B-boy in the white man’s stance
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| Where I come from, son, the wolves don’t dance
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| They stand with their fists and talk shit like this
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| Y’all don’t want drama, y’all don’t want static
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| You fiend like crack addicts, comebacks automatic
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| Got a deuce-deuce in my boot holding five
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| Got a razor in the other one in case you survive
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| I rep the Gaza Strip, the hunger strike
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| Cousin, bite on your lip, do what you like
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| We ain’t playing no games, you ain’t Humpty Hump
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| When the cats with the guns pop the trunks and dump
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| And the pistols thump and the bodies slump
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| Going for Jihad, can’t wait to see God
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| A child of the city so my attitude is shitty
|
| The livest type bomber out for pure drama
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| Period, comma, P. S. fuck your mamma
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| I come from where hope goes to die
|
| (Where dreams get crushed and the bullets fly!)
|
| I come from where hope goes to die
|
| La Coka Nostra till I die!
|
| I’m the white guy who gave the whole rap game a black eye
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| Fuck your bitch with a dick thicker than Shaq’s thigh
|
| You can’t nod off: this is a crack high
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| Stab you in your fucking face with a jack knife
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| I love bitches who suck dick and half-dyke
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| I’m just sick, I’ll beat your brain, doc, with a flashlight: A black Maglite
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| You other rappers fag-fight, we don’t battle
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| I have your family crawling out the bagpipes
|
| And the preachers preach, pine box and the fucking facial features fixed
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| Whoops, I mean fixed, pushed don’t mean shit
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| When a dope fiend lean on a custom green whip
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| Everlast, ILL BILL, Slaine and D-Boy
|
| Lethal, Left Cage, we got you P-Noid
|
| We B-boys who destroy on both coasts
|
| Tote toasts and sold coke with gold ropes
|
| I come from where hope goes to die
|
| (Where dreams get crushed and the bullets fly!)
|
| I come from where hope goes to die
|
| La Coka Nostra till I die! |