| Got my mind on this money, cause I gotta stay paid
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| Running into fakers on my journey, everyday
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| Just because, they see a nigga riding high
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| They think that I be slipping, and I don’t know why
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| I got this money in my pocket, making moves everyday
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| Laughing at these haters, waving money in they face
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| Even though I know, they really wanna ride
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| I pay em no attention, and they don’t know why
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| Hit em up get em up, early in the morning
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| I’m smoking pine and writing rhymes, while niggas still yawning
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| By noon I’m out the do', twenty inches to the flo'
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| Although bidness been slow, this mouthpiece fa sho
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| And I know that no hoe, can interfere with this cash flow
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| That ass we can bash, like grass begin to grow
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| Zero once mo', had to show up and po' up
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| Unexpectedly blow up, then proceed to sew up
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| Bitches throw up they sick, far gon on my dick
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| I was treated like shit, until I dropped my first hit
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| Southside baby, won’t you scream it if you mean it
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| I done been there done that, 22 young I done seen it
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| Got some plex go on bring it, rap star but I can sing it
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| Twenty G’s a show, with eight mo' I can swing it
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| Moving ki’s and G’s, on down to C.D.'s and LP’s
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| Clocking nothing but thee’s, doing this thang with ease I’m getting paid
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| This the space age playa, let’s drift into places
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| Where gangstas turn stars, on the regular basis
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| You don’t work you don’t eat, lesson one on the street
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| I’m the only man in my mama’s eyes, I gotta be on feet
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| But my mystery is complete, in this life long miracle
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| I must confess I been blessed, just to be so lyrical
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| Smoking blunts and pulling stunts, bitch I’m cold as a blizzard
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| I get in to fit in, then blend in like a lizard
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| It’s the wizard, steady waving my wand
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| Be calm in the presence, of the hard headed don
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| Switched up on haters, grabbed the sto’s and theaters
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| Put the steak on a plate, large estates with the acres
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| Put the punks in the trunks, put the frauds with the fakers
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| Got my grind on, shine on with my paper
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| How can you escape the, lyrical impact
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| That’s coming through your chest, your head and your back
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| It’s a fact that I stack, count mills to be exact
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| Rap game hall of fame, nothing but awards and placks
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| So where the haters at, so I could squash the chit-chat
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| Born and raised to break hats, and stay strapped with my gat
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| Cream mats in the Lac, chromey 4's be turning
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| Money earning my concerning, plus the weed I’m burning
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| I’m confirming the commission, while you suckers get played
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| Jam Down it’s for real, forever get paid we getting paid
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| It’s so hard to get rich, but easy to be broke
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| And these toss up’s and cross up’s, mo' niggas get smoked
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| I’m at the end of the road, transacts for do'
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| When there’s a will there’s a way, dear God I hope
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| My career don’t slow, or fall to something negative
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| Proposition and mission, is to be an executive
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| Cool calm and collected, intellectually respected
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| The body to the rap game, I slowly dissect it
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| I select the category, lyricists
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| Ain’t no changing us, dangerous serious
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| I know ya curious, furious with your trigga
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| Your army’s busters ball, Jam Down is paid niggas yeah we get paid |