| Yeah
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| I feel ya
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| I don’t know what to say
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| That’s how it’s going down?
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| Woke up one mornin 'bout 6 o’clock
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| Dick still smellin' like spit n cock
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| Beeper vibratin' like a nympho sex toy
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| It’s time to collect, them hoes got they checks boy
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| But on my way out the motel room the bitch said
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| 'Dre, why must you go so soon'?
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| Thinkin' about the night before and how she licked me
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| I bounced back in so I could get me a quicky
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| Dick hard as ten pounds of frozen neckbones
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| I got my wreck on and got the heck on
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| Droppin' a hoe off, you know I had to show off
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| I burnt rubber and the bitch tried to go off
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| But all I did was laugh, like she was a joke
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| Hit the gas, and left her ass in smoke
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| Strikin' in my Chevrolet you know I had to smash it
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| Dippin' and dodgin', makin' my way through traffic
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| Marily marily, marily marily i go
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| Looked in the rearview, damn
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| It’s 5−0
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| Once again pullin' me over for the jack up
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| In my mirror I can see him callin' back up
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| But I ain’t goin' out like no sucka
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| Put the pedal to the metal and smoked the mothafucka
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| Stopped at the store on Sacramento and Tennessee
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| Got a pack of zig-zags and a fifth of hennessy
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| Percin' off the dank and the drank connection
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| It’s back to my mission nigga, bank collection
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| Back to my mission
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| Back to my mission
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| Back to my mission
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| Rollin' in my old school Lincoln, drinkin'
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| Joint between my lips and dankin', sinkin'
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| Deep in the seat, with the beat on the down-low
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| But I ain’t trippin' on the way it really sound though
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| I got down ho, ready to hit the track
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| And bring back fat stack of them greenbacks
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| Hit the stroll but before i let her go
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| I let her know, she’s nothing but my ho
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| 4 was the time on my wristwatch
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| Grabbed the phone, turned it on, cause i just got
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| A motherfuckin' beep from a freak on another strip
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| Get the hennessy and I take me another sip
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| Call the bitch back and she’s ready, to kick down
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| What she made, from just gettin' dick down
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| Bounce to the spot where my hoe does work
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| See her in a skirt and a see-through shirt
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| Pull her off the track and I don’t say shit
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| 'Cause all I wanna hear is that purse unzip
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| Lookin' at the bitch with the pimpish grin
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| Feelin like the mac as my hoe kicks in
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| Let the bitch out, start unloadin' my cut
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| Let the 15's slam and I’m fuckin em up
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| They can’t understand how I bounce my head
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| Smokin' on a joint at a light that’s red
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| Niggas can’t be me but they wish they could
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| The light turned green and I hit the hood
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| See my homeboy Don in a '74
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| The rollers got him jacked but they lettin' him go
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| Catch up with him at the light
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| Said 'what's up cuddie, party at tonight'?
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| He said 'it's goin on playa at the afterdark
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| And there’s a house party bumpin in college park'
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| Playa waved to my homie then I split from the scene
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| It’s back to my mission nigga, gettin' the green
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| Back to my mission
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| Back to my mission
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| Late one night, I drove my Brome to the burger spot
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| Stepped in all I saw was a herd of cock
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| Went in my pocket, came out with the yack bottle
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| Twist the cap then I took me a fat swallow
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| All I could smell was cock in the air
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| And I can tell by they stare they was jockin' the playa
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| Went to the counter ordered burger and milkshake
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| The girl standin' behind me was thick with silk fake
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| Hair that looked the real but she had looks to kill
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| I Stepped back and gave the broad my spill
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| Told her my name and she couldn’t believe it
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| Kept spittin' game til I peelt her weave back
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| She recognized the playa and she knew I was major
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| Gave her the number to my Pactel pager
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| Snatched my grub, then I hopped in my town car
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| And let them landstars slam, and pound hard
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| Honked at the hutch when I cut from the scene
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| Then it’s back to my mission nigga
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| Gettin' the green
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| Back to my mission
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| Back to my mission |