| Shout out to the gang, ho
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| RIP to my niggas
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| Cocaine’s a hell of a drug
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| Shout out to my niggas that be drillin' shit
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| Free my niggas in the field that with us
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| RIP to my niggas I can’t see no more, gang
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| With this generation now it can’t be no more gang
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| Long nights, we was trappin' in them projects
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| Took a minute but we made it out the projects
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| My hood love me so my niggas, I can’t let 'em down
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| I’m that nigga and you heard it from word of mouth
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| Real nigga, I’ll show what you doin 'wrong
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| Victoria’s Secret, I’ll put you in the Louis thong
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| Yeah, baby, that’s that boss up
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| All these bitches ran through, they be tossed up
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| Why these bitches in they feelings like they lightskin?
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| But she just left ten bands on my nightstand
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| No friends, just a Glock, that’s my right hand
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| Sneak dissin' 'til we hop up out that white van
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| Yeah, bitch, you can’t play me
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| Struggle hard in these streets really made me
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| Don’t get picked off, my brother playin' safety
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| We gon' keep it low-key like I’m Haiti
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| Niggas ain’t know me, I ain’t even make it |
| Fourth and ten so you know I’m 'bout to take it
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| And could you tell me why these hoes so basic?
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| Money made, lil bitch, I’m money making
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| Never feed into these lies and these bitches
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| Cameras on, so I know the feds listenin'
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| Never feed into these lies and these bitches
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| Cameras on, so I know the feds listenin', ayy
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| Céline bag, I’ll put you in them Christians
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| Hundred dollar steaks, bitch, we Ruth Chris-in'
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| So much blue bills, think a nigga crippin'
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| Mama worried, she just worried how I’m livin'
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| To keep it real with you, baby, I can’t tell the truth
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| If it’s dreams to be sold, I can sell it too
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| I wanna get rich, now tell me, what you wanna do?
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| Take you out that Honda, girl, and put you in a coupe
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| Yeah, I heard you wanna win and to never lose
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| Fuckin' with them lame niggas, that’s the outcome
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| I’m only rollin' with some niggas tryna down some'
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| Couple winners on them cases so they found some'
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| You ain’t ridin' for yourself, that’s a head shot
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| How you niggas say y’all shootin' but send leg shots?
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| Never personal, it’s never nothin' like that |
| Blue strips out your bitch and give it right back
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| Sucker niggas down the street, heard they hate me
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| I think they mad 'cause they brodie died
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| Speakin' on me to these bitches, I ain’t even mad
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| Instead of feelings, I’m just gettin' to that fuckin' bag
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| Lurkin' on me, baby girl, might get your feelings hurt
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| I can’t even lie to you, I be feelin' hurt
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| Yeah, I be feelin' hurt
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| I can’t even lie to you, I be feelin' hurt
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| Man, tell brodie pour up that dark shit
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| Threes and twenties, all that shit
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| Free the home team, RIP to the gang, you feel me?
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| All that shit
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| Ayy, bosses don’t brag, gangsters don’t advertise
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| You feel me?
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| Pay me in bands
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| Ask your bitch, she’ll tell you
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| All you niggas get out your feelings too, all that internet thuggin'
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| We gon' pop out
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| Killing’s got to be accepted
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| Murder was the only way that everyone stayed in line |