| Aww yeah ya know it was real hanging out wit y’all motherf**kers
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| On this here album right
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| But this motherf**ker bout over and uh
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| Time for me to get the hell on
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| Been in the studio, the motherf**king sun coming up
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| In this bitch, motherf**ker, been in this motherf**king studio
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| Working hard on this motherf**king album
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| (Background vocals from Lil' Jon & Big Sam come in)
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| What up B-leech, goddamn Sleet as usual in the motherf**king studio
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| Kit, all the boys higher den a motherf**ker
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| We got Tim over there f**king up shit
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| Ha, ha, but like I said time to get up out this album knowhaimsayin
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| Hope y’all enjoyed this motherf**ker
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| It was a lot of hard work putting this bitch together
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| Go look out for them, LG’s, my girl Chyna Whyte
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| And who knows what else to motherf**king expect
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| From the motherf**king BME ya little Biatch
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| (Chyna Whyte)
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| It’s one time for my soldiers on the front line
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| Strapped with AKs, and car bombs
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| With K-nine blood lines
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| It’s one time for my killers on the front line
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| Strapped P-nines and semi-autos
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| Actin like it’s no tomorrow
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| (Chyna Whyte)
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| To survive in this world makes me a soldier
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| Cause I wear Reeboks, nigga why, cause they colder
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| Every 3 years I battle my fans thug years
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| Now I shed tears, nigga, I ain’t happy here
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| Like pot, so I blow herb thinking it’ll stop the pain
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| When I come down I’ll still be left with the strain
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| So I stay high so my eyes can stay dry
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| And I don’t give a f**k why
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| Nigga I was born to die
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| In the club head tight off of gin and kiwi
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| Camouflage and dimes so the niggas can’t see me
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| Tellin em my name Le-Le or Lisa
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| Breaking them walls the Visa 9-millimeter
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| Sha-sha click, cock it, rock it
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| Nothing but the Reeboks and poppin
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| Nuttin but motherf**king nines and
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| Bump, bump, you be running like Forrest Gump
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| Knock you on yo ass like Humpty Dump
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| Chyna Whyte leaves niggas in a slump, serial
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| Deadly like disease venereal
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| Game as be RD imperial
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| Pumpin through your stereo, nigga what you know
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| Ain’t no log when that fo'-fo'
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| Ejaculate up in your fo' door
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| Bitch die slow, lyrical calico
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| Purple tablets I flow
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| None want war, Gambino
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| Emptyin clips, I rips
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| Motevl I flips
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| Words comin off the lips like Teflon’s hips
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| IT’S ONE TIME! |