| (Weezy, Weezy, Weezy, Weezy
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| Weezy, Weezy, Weezy, Weezy)
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| I see, thank you man, thank you
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| Y’all know his name
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| Ayo, Mack, let the beat drop
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| Ladies and gentlemen, C5, Wayne time
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| Yeah, yeah, yeah
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| Zone, zone, zone, zone, zone
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| Let me see your shoulders work
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| I mean, I don’t know what y’all came here to do, but, uh
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| If you ain’t got a lighter, what the fuck you smoking for?
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| We hot! |
| (Haaa)
|
| What the fuck, though? |
| Where the love go?
|
| Five, four, three, two, I let one go
|
| Bow! |
| Get the fuck though, I don’t bluff, bro
|
| Aimin' at your head like a buffalo
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| You a roughneck, I’m a cutthroat
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| You’re a tough guy, that’s enough jokes
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| Then the sun die, the night is young though
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| The diamonds still shine in the rough, ho
|
| What the fuck though? |
| Where the love go?
|
| Five, four, three, two, where the ones go?
|
| It’s a shit show, put you front row
|
| Talkin' shit, bro? |
| Let your tongue show
|
| Money over bitches, and above hoes
|
| That is still my favorite love quote
|
| Put the gun inside, what the fuck for?
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| I sleep with the gun, and she don’t snore
|
| What the fuck, yo? |
| Where the love go?
|
| Trade the ski mask for the muzzle
|
| It’s a blood bath, where the suds go?
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| It’s a Swizz beat, there the drums go
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| If she’s iffy, there the drugs go
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| If she sip lean, double-cup toast
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| I got a duffle full of hundos
|
| There the love go, where’s the uproar?
|
| What the fuck though? |
| Where the love go?
|
| Five, four, three, two, I let one go
|
| Bow! |
| Get the fuck though, I don’t bluff, bro
|
| Aimin' at your head like a buffalo
|
| What the fuck though? |
| Where the love go?
|
| Five, four, three, two, I let one go
|
| Bow! |
| Get the fuck though, I don’t bluff, bro
|
| Aimin' at your head like a buffalo
|
| Get the fuck though, I don’t bluff, bro
|
| I come out the scuffle without a scuff, woah
|
| Puff, puff, bro; |
| I don’t huff though
|
| Yellow diamonds up close, catch a sunstroke
|
| At your front door with a gun stowed
|
| «Knock, knock. |
| Who’s there?» |
| is how it won’t go
|
| This the jungle, so have the utmost
|
| For the nutzos, and we nuts, so
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| What the fuck, bro? |
| It’s where I’m from, bro
|
| We grow up fast, we roll up slow
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| We throw up gang signs, she throw up dope
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| Dreadlock hang down like you dun know
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| Put the green in the bag like a lawnmower
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| Hair trigger pulled back like a cornrow
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| Extra clip in the stash like a console
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| Listenin' to Bono, you listen to Donald
|
| What the fuck, bro? |
| Where the love go?
|
| Swizzy he the chef, I like my lunch gross
|
| Just look up, bro, there the Scuds go
|
| I see the shovel, but where did bruh go?
|
| Hmm, to the unknown
|
| Only way he comin' back is through his unborns
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| If you see what’s in my bag, think I’m a drug lord
|
| It’s empty when I give it back, now where’s the uproar?
|
| What the fuck though? |
| Where the love go?
|
| Five, four, three, two, I let one go
|
| Bow! |
| Get the fuck though, I don’t bluff, bro
|
| Aimin' at your head like a buffalo
|
| What the fuck though? |
| Where the love go?
|
| Five, four, three, two, I let one go
|
| Bow! |
| Get the fuck though, I don’t bluff, bro
|
| Aimin' at your head like a buffalo |