| Smash the dash, you know I’m all about the cash
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| I burn it up like hash, Low Pro staff
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| After that why don’t you tell me who you thought it was
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| We just some felons, always keep bailing
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| There ain’t no telling what we coming with next
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| Large amounts, break it off in sets, homey you know
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| Import to export, it’s all affordable
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| Portable, tranferring up to State, date current
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| Lil' Rob and me we like some Ceaser Lenos
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| Al Pacinos, John Gottis, Gambinos
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| Making hits for all you so called rap cliques
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| Who talking hella loud but you ain’t really saying shit
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| We get it started, hot like fire
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| Keep em rolling like rims and tires, cut it up like barbed-wire
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| We here to shine where it rain and ain’t sunny
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| Cuz we all about our money, ain’t a damn thing funny
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| (D-double-T-X, Ese Lil' Rob)
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| We hitting licks, and roam with bomb bitches
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| If you don’t know it’s on, then I’ll tell you that it’s on bitches
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| (D-double-T-X, Ese Lil' Rob)
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| No matter if the stakes are high
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| We gonna ride till the day we die
|
| (D-double-T-X, Ese Lil' Rob)
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| We hitting licks, and roam with bomb bitches
|
| If you don’t know it’s on, then I’ll tell you that it’s on bitches
|
| (D-double-T-X, Ese Lil' Rob)
|
| We gonna shine where it rain, and ain’t sunny
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| Cuz we all about our money, ain’t a damn thing funny
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| L-I-L R-O-B from S-D
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| Dropping it with the D-double-T, X
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| Fool you need some Kleenex
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| Mocosos, vamosos, you are like a nosto but you ain’t even coastal
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| Lil' Rob be the bomba, 2001 even more so
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| Keep trucha, I’ll shoot ya
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| With a gang of raps man
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| Dropping way more bombs than the Gap Band
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| Old school like Pac Man
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| I pack jams, pulling a bunch of shit
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| A bunch of bumping shit, a bunch of shit you can’t fuck with
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| You’ll find me three-wheeling it
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| Or with a Corona and a brown bag homey tilting it, and killing it
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| And when I’m done I’ll grab another one
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| Write you another hit cuz you can’t get enough of em
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| You’ve loving em
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| Who be that vato that can rock the spot? |
| Ese Lil' Rob
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| Who be that vato that just can’t be stopped? |
| Ese Lil' Rob
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| Ponle punk
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| We hitting licks, and roam with bomb bitches
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| If you don’t know it’s on, then I’ll tell you that it’s on bitches
|
| And we coming from out of bounds, so bare with me
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| Mi amigo, hit me with the steelo
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| Mero mero, listo with the filero
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| Harder than Heavy Metal and it’s on till the dust settle
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| Keep it cracking from beginning to end
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| Perkilating, bubbilating, and hard core ministrating
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| You can’t see Lil' Rob and me
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| We just some OG’s flowing from the shores out in Cali
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| We in the mix, and floating a fly six
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| And ain’t got no time for those haters and tricks
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| Let the clock tick, bout to explode, cold piece of work
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| Hear what I’m saying, knowing that we done did dirt
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| Cop a piece homey, what the deal
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| Infamous boss players, homey we keep it real |