| I’ma let you know off top, you got the wrong one, buddy
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| Yeah, say the wrong thang, mayne, you’re paying for it
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| Yeah, I’m a cutthoat, man
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| I push a hard line, man; |
| I got a short fuse, man
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| Blow up so quick
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| Old boy claim he a boss but unemployed
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| Told him to get lost, he got me noid
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| He one of them nosy niggas that I avoid
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| Always asking stupid questions (No doy)
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| I’m no toy, potna, quit playing with me
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| Or meet my new roommate that’s staying with me
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| My brodie, my.40
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| He the best friend I had since me and Jody
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| Homie, you don’t know me, it’s best left like that
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| To the domey with the chromey, if it’s on, it’s like that
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| You might rat so I don’t fuck with' ya
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| My cutthoat niggas keep asking me, «What's up with' ya?»
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| I ain’t vouchin', you might piss crouchin'
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| Bitch nigga, I’m Tim Couchin'
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| I quarterback, the Mac the team general
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| And keep the track to the max, never minimal
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| Quit it, I ain’t with' it, you get wetted
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| My thing spit it and hit it (Spit it and hit it)
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| You trippin', catch me slippin', I doubt it
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| I keep an extra clip and I don’t get caught without it
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| Quit it, I ain’t with' it, you get wetted
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| My thing spit it and hit it (Spit it and hit it)
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| You trippin', catch me slippin', I doubt it
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| I keep an extra clip and I don’t get caught without it |