| Beware, let’s go, the muthafucka better mention my name, man
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| It’s Perby Platinum, nigga, if a nigga ain’t know, man
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| Now a nigga know the boss of fucking Far Rock is back in the building
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| Only rapper to rewrite history without a pen
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| No I.D. |
| on the track, let the story begin (the end)
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| Begin (the end) begin
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| So ya’ll wanna be rappers and actors
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| Muthafuckas make me laugh, to me ya’ll practice
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| And Far Rock America, we all jackers
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| Stick up kids, yappers and snatchers
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| Bentley around the corner, I ain’t talking bout Fonzworth
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| That’s the kind of cars you get from hard work
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| My moms and pops dead, guess where my aunt work
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| I’m a Louis, Gucci nigga, you know what my scarf worth
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| We gotta shake it like Sam Walstein
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| The Benz look like a mirror, all the slippers is clean
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| Tell 'em, doggie for them diamonds, step right out
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| Hurry up, muthafucka, or get stretched right out
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| Right now, that’s what I’m used to hearing
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| Real as Marion, I ain’t used to caring
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| Yeah, I was close to caring
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| Before them forty caliber bullets roasted Karen |
| A gangsta’s behind me, I ain’t by myself
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| Piff pills and dust, all the liquor is top shelf
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| Fuck it, just label me nice
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| And say the chain have more karats than vegetable fried rice
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| That was me, that real muthafucker, that real OG
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| That boy that they call that S-U-P
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| E-R-B, ain’t a nigga rob me, never |