| Oh No, No, Oh No, No
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| Oh No, No, Oh No, No, Oh No, No
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| I play the bullshit from the backseat champ
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| Yea I’m in the backseat still got the seat back
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| Feet back stay from where the fake be at
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| Niggas snitch for the shine where the patience at
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| Nigga make his own brother face his back
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| Give love and take it back
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| Good grief man this world is quite heavy on my aching back
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| Cops killing for crack you know the story snakes eat rats
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| Face the facts you can’t change him can’t shoot it if you can’t aim it
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| Can’t miss him if he kill you then you can’t blame him
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| That’s just how the dice roll when you can’t fade him
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| Get too deep up in that water and they can’t save ya
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| Me I come out of that water like I was just bathing
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| And watch my step on a wet pavement
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| Yea I’m from the hood so I rep 'em where I can’t take em
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| Holly Grove Holly Grove was his last statement
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| So nigga get that look off your face
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| And recognize you got a crook in the place
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| They call me W-E-E crooked letter Y I’m so high
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| I skeet skeet in any nigga dime like she’s mine
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| Street sweeper in the back of the hatch make me pop the latch
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| Leave you bloody with the cops to match
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| Bullet holes in ya speakers from the chopper blast
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| Like… Ha ha
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| That’s bullet holes in your sneakers got you hopping back
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| It all stop when they hit you in ya top and back
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| No cocking back silly motherfucker you ain’t heard bout this
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| The clip sink down to the dick
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| That’s a automatic shotty from a drum they call tommy
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| Guaranteed to get you bitches from by me
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| When I hit every piece of ya visible body he leakin'
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| Mortimer is no longer leapin' he sleepin'
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| While you pussy niggas is sleeping he thinking
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| Deep in thought the boy ain’t even winkin'
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| Bob Marley got me stinking
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| Stacking figures I’m standing firm life’s a slinky
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| Pipes is filled with crack cocaine
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| And the dope go inside of the veins from where I came
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| Though I bear a name only one call live with
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| Coach they won’t knock me off my pivot forget it
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| I’m sicker with it
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| Pick a city buy a condo find a fine hoe let some time go chill
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| What you know about a bongo having her mind go
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| Over a convo about dough
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| Nothing! |
| Man the four wheelers look so good on the sand
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| Tee or tanktop pocket fan
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| No pocket knife, no handgun in sight
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| Just that rat tat tat tat tat tat tat tat BOOM!
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| Ha ha tonight I might just boost my feature price
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| Cause to each its own and the lights is bright
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| And I’m feeling like Mike at a Tyson fight
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| I’m from Cita house big momma’s house
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| She told me to shoot ya right after I knock ya out
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| And he ain’t getting up after them shots if you hit him in the right spot
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| Hold up the beat might drop
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| Oh No, No, Oh No, No |