| This motherfucking D’usse got me sweating and shit…
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| Word to God
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| Hov, fuck with ya boy
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| Okay nigga, I got 'em, point 'em out and I got 'em
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| Let 'em get a lil buzz, then we robbing for pollen
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| We ain’t killing no minors, you niggas still in the minors
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| And your bitch, we gonna blind her, can’t pick us out of the lineup
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| I swear lord knows I’ma murk one of these niggas
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| Shoot you in your earth, and get earthworms on me, nigga
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| I been did my time, I’m getting better with time
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| But real niggas don’t whine, we’ll burn down your vineyard
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| I been balling since cornrows, still ducking the narcos
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| My little niggas in war mode, you spark it up, we charcoal
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| Got a bad bitch with long hair that have bad days when the mall closed
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| I’m a big dog, big doghouse, make ashtrays out of dog bowls, yeah
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| Blessings on top of sins, resting with topless twins
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| Picture me broke but forgot to take the top off the lens
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| In the restaurant, I’m with Slim, wrestling with lobster limbs
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| Talking about some M’s, it’s sounding like gospel hymns
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| Yes, lord
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| We on that D’usse, me and my nigga Euro
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| Tina turn up in this bitch
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| We got Lauren in this bitch
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| Serena Pink in this bitch, better known as Pinky
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| Steph in this bitch
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| Yah dig?
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| What’s up Brandon?!
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| Lego!
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| Hollygrove nigga, rest in peace, Lil Kevin
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| Rest in peace, Lil Beezy, rest in peace, Big Sausage
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| The world is mine, I am selfish
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| I am a shark, fuck them shellfish
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| Everybody in the building, well I left that bitch like Elvis
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| Nigga, please
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| Pops treated mom like Billie Jean
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| Like hot sauce, I put it on everything
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| I’ma give that fucking woman everything, everything
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| Here we go, bitch I’m cool, Coolio
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| She say «Tune, do me slow»
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| How many fish did Hootie blow?
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| I don’t know, fuck who knows?
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| I got a redbone with two golds
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| And she snort too much of that Michael Jackson
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| That bitch gonna need a new nose
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| I ain’t got time for you hoes
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| Shit I only have two goals
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| And that is «Get Money, Get Money»
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| Now I’m riding 'round the city with the top off the Maybach
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| Looking for a motherfucking spot we can skate at
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| Elvis left the building and I take these hoes to Graceland
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| And I got more bounce, to the 28 grams
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| I ain’t stunting these niggas
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| Eyes look Chinese, Wayne-chung to these niggas
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| Wayne-chung bitch!
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| More than one bitch
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| This for my niggas, we shall overcome, bitch
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| From New Orleans, niggas dying over dumb shit
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| You know we give the pastor hell, make the nun strip
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| Yeah I might have them bricks, call me Brick Cannon
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| Nina on my lap, what you want from Santa?
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| I might get money, fuck bitches
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| Kill niggas and smoke weed
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| I’m married to this real shit
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| And I’m a wife beater, no sleeves
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| Do it for my hood
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| That 44 ain’t no good
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| You better bring that chopper
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| Cause we gonna have them choppers
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| Yeah I do it for my hood
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| That 45 ain’t no good
|
| You better bring the chopper
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| Cause we gonna have them choppers, nigga
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| We gonna have them choppers
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| We gonna have them choppers
|
| You better bring the chopper
|
| Cause we gonna have them choppers, yeah
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| We gonna have them choppers
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| We gonna have them choppers
|
| You better bring the chopper
|
| Cause we gonna have them choppers, nigga
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| Mula!
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| My nigga Hood in this bitch
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| Still on that D’usse
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| Shout out my nigga Lil Twist, my lil brother
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| He just passed out in the club the other night off that D’usse
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| Threw up on the owner
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| Owner talkin' about he wanted his money back
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| He wanted half of the money back
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| Twist took all the money and left
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| That’s some Young Money shit
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| Soo Woo to the B gang
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| Rest in peace Cedar Frogg |