| Associating with bullshit, got me Gon' Madd
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| Associating with stupid hoes, got me Gon' Madd
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| You fuck with your boy, somebody throw me some caps
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| Somebody like anything before I kick somebody’s ass
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| I need green, like Don King, need a haircut
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| So I got with the 'Kaze 'cause they be hooking shit up
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| We hellified music, I got the vocals to do it
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| Since a nigga got capped, a nigga kinda got used to it
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| Up there on the mic, got you hyped; |
| rocking your head
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| Making so much noise, a nigga wake up the dead
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| Keep an eye on you niggas that want a loaf of my bread
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| Pop on the infrared, pop it back and fill you with lead
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| Nigga, you can test my nuts, 'cause they thought I was fake
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| Now they (mad?) 'cause if they got some Go-Go-Gadget roller skates
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| But me, you can’t escape, 'cause now I’m in your radio
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| Better take me out, press pause, or fast-forward, hoe
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| I’ve Gon' Madd, Madd enough to buy you some plast'
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| Call the school; |
| bomb threat, got my niggas outta class
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| I want it all, so I hussle try not to fall
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| You try to take it or make it, your whole world pause |
| And to you niggas in the rap game, shit we gon' start
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| Fuck around and how you hoes doin' shows as we got
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| I feel ridiculous; |
| clocked my gift from St. Nicholas
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| Hard-core lyricist, rough is how I’m bringin' it
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| Kamikaze thuggin' it, niggas they be jockin' it
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| Fall up in the club, groupie hoes, they be lovin' it
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| Heat on my hip incase a nigga get cold
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| I’ma leave the hoe froze, plucked out with bullet hoes
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| Money-maker, mark my word, M-Child, the top dog;
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| Test nuts if a nigga jump like a fucking frog
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| You better make way, give me room before I stray
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| Bombs tied around my chest, blow this bitch to outer space
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| I ain’t playing with you, and I ain’t fucking with your needle
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| Them Mound niggas crazy, we chiefin' the reefer
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| My niggas cappin' the geef, big bush, knockin' out teeth
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| Eliminate beef, I think they gone and they deep
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| Now don’t let me get deep, and rap until you fall asleep
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| Smoke on the Optimo and Big Game, like a crooked priest
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| If a nigga got beef, yo, we can take it to the streets
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| Put a bomb in your pager and watch it blow into chow beef |
| I creep with a hundred motherfuckers out late
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| Smokin' dope, sippin' syrup, not the kind you eat with pancakes
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| Taking over shit, do whatever for the cheese
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| I need a bladder in the water a bitch need to breathe
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| Zero tolerance, step out a lyin' ass whoopin'
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| You gonna be in hot water like noodles when they be cooking
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| Overlookin' my style, sick, making niggas vomit
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| My clan comin' through and we clean up they Comet
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| Now you can look, but don’t touch, why you on it, I know you want it
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| That M-Child nigga, you won’t him dead, don’t he?
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| If you just clear my weave, it’s gon' be something bad
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| You fucking with the wrong one, my nigga, I’m Gon' Madd |