| Told her, «Don't wait for me»
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| Your time is up, better save it, please
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| I just ran up me a eighty piece (Ayy)
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| She on her knees suckin' dick like she pray to me
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| Doggin' that bitch 'til her face full of Maybelline
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| In my cup, maybe it’s lean, we don’t do no green
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| Left wrist on Billie Jean, Billie Jean, Billie Jean
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| Draft Day, he poppin', no, Sante ain’t stoppin'
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| He need all his profits, some say that he cocky
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| I know that he got it, he flew a bitch out from the tropics
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| Exotic, I’m smokin', Supreme, had to box it
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| 458 'Rari take off like rockets
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| Wide body kit like Buffie the Body
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| All-white Maybach, I nicknamed it Scotty 2 Hotty (Woo)
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| My Mexican bitch treat me like Liberace (Yeah)
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| I threw twenty thousand on twenty-five strangers
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| Being raised by QC prepared me for the danger (Hey)
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| My stick got a scope like a Texas park ranger
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| I look up to Mom and Mom only
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| I ran up a sack in some orange grey Saucony’s
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| My bitches give love, but I’m still feelin' lonely
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| My heart got a space the same size as a condo
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| No money can fill it, I’m hot as a skillet (Hot)
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| These rappers two-faced so bad, I could peel it
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| And see they true colors, I cut every finger for all of my brothers
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| I’ll hop off the plane backwards wrapped in some Louis V covers
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| Head first in the gutter (Yeah)
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| If it’s for the guap, fettucine
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| Might cop a new truck, cream like alfredo linguini
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| These new niggas weenies
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| The year is '06 with my black Bapesta beanie
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| She rub on my gold like there might be a genie
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| I can’t take a bad dressin' bitch to my mama
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| I might take the bitch from the hood to Bahamas
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| Show her 'bout the world, this bitch here ain’t even my girl (Yeah)
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| I pass the bitch off, let the homie go handle it (Yeah)
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| Big pointer stones 'round my neck light the room like a candle lit (Boom)
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| Don’t get too close, 7.62's knock off your shoulder, dismantle it
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| Masked up, no Rip Hamilton (Yeah, brrt), you niggas squares like Carlton
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| I’m in Bel-Air (Yeah) posted at Nobu, inside the whip, orange like Goku
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| Lil' boy, I done told you, I been hit the ho, that’s old news
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| These niggas be cappin', no Pro Tools
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| Twenty-two, bitch, and I look like a mogul (Yeah)
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| Got more money than your whole family tree (Yeah, yeah)
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| Double that shit, and you still won’t reach me (Bitch)
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| You in the nosebleeds, I sit in floor seats
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| Right where the coach at, but you can’t coach me
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| Draft Day been on that, sound like Kobe
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| Please name a nigga who really can stop me (On God)
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| Can’t no one stop you, you next like the runner-up
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| Niggas big flexin', they bitch, I’ma look her up
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| Hook her up, dick her down
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| Got a new stick, nine-mil' bullets, send thirty rounds
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| Ready to hunt a clown (Brrt)
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| I been that nigga since, uh, I can’t remember
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| Since when? |
| Wintertime and I remembered December
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| Wore a dress, now they tryna slander my gender
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| My bitch was on set lookin' mighty tender (Woo)
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| So fuck what they talkin' 'bout, tell 'em to watch they mouth
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| 'Fore I get outta body (Yeah), and I knock 'em out
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| I bought twelve different whips like it’s nothin' new
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| I keep blicks on the hip like they stuck with glue
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| I drop bombs on a bitch, I’m not DJ Clue (Boom)
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| My niggas bangin' red, it’s the way of life (Brrt)
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| We buyin' guns like it’s illegal owning knifes
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| Fuckin' my Asian, she makin' me jasmine rice (Go)
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| I took a whole lotta slander from fuck niggas, broke niggas
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| Fuck all of that, I’m the prototype
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| Grabbin' the wheel, I give a fuck (Skrrt)
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| Nigga want smoke, I hope that it’s up
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| Aimin' the stick at the square like the game with the duck
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| Nigga gon' knuck if you buck (Brr)
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| I got like ten different watches I never wear
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| My Louis mono, not no Damier (Yeah)
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| At the penthouse with three different concierge (Yeah)
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| I know all of my haters cannot compare (Yeah, 'pare, 'pare) |