| Only way out is up; |
| fuck what you skwakin about
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| Little Rocky with your mouth full of nuts
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| Pullin your stunts, smilin in my face and junk
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| E’rything ain’t always what it seem to be with these chumps
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| I’m givin 'em funk, mixed with the soul and the skunk
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| Feel the thump from the track when the bassline bump
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| Cop a shot, rock your box, ain’t a dude in this world
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| Be provin him wrong, e’ry night we keep 'em movin along
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| With beautiful songs, the fifth life is ugly as sin
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| I come for your friend, his name might be stuck to the end
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| Pen and pad has been my dad cause poppa never came around
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| He left me and my momma naked in a bucket, fuck it
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| I make my styles marry the production, somethin
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| Gotta give I murdered my kid cause now the ends
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| Got my granny achin, wakin up at six in the morn'
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| At 71 to go to work so I steady tick like a bomb
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| It’s all over, when my voice ushers the drums
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| Rappers girls be winkin at me while they suckin they thumbs
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| See most of these MC’s ain’t nuttin but crumbs
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| The type of cats that like footlongs stuffed in they buns |
| If I ever had kids they’d probably bully your son
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| Steal on him, take his lunch money and run
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| I start hittin on your wifey while I’m scummy offa rum
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| And if that bitch hates my guts
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| I know she’ll love me when she comes
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| But I ain’t crushin if she ugly as sin
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| I cain’t fuck with fat chicks who rock skullies and Timbs
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| Shit only fine women gon' buff with my jim
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| Scuff with they shins, maybe if I’m lucky there’s twins
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| (Hell yeah) I ain’t a player though I’m scruffy and thin
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| But my shit pumps like the blood under your skin
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| Play my single, cats be actin gully when it spins
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| I kill mics and keep vice steady dustin for my prints |