| Relax facin, facin mind-bogglin hallucinations
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| Eazy-Duz-It till the skull get your lungs full
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| Take a deep pull, react sit back cos Mack
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| Got that bu-yow shit that get’cha higher than wick-wack
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| It’s hard as stone alone, it’s always on
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| Never home-grown totin cos the streets made me potent
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| Down since '84 now live for '95
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| Got it swingin while some niggas bangin, I’m dope slangin
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| For my everyday expenses, know the consequences
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| The bigger the sack, the bigger the sentence
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| No time for repentance, put it down
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| Count the stripes that I tally
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| Runnin backstreets and alleys through Inglewood, Cali
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| So back the fuck up, don’t act the fuck up
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| Never slip from the hit
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| Triple-six in the clip when I trip
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| So busters beware, never dare to have qualms
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| With that nigga Mack 10 full of ghetto ass bombs
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| Take a hit
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| Can you feel it nigga? |
| Nothin can save ya
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| Roll ya papers and take a heel on my shit
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| Get’cha high like a rocket, loot in my pocket
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| Mean like the green, bomb like the chocolate
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| Thai, I Mack 1−0, gun-ho
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| Dirty ass Lynch Mob crew, new voodoo
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| Cast a killer, cap peeler, hang with gorillas
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| Tragic when you catch it, runnin from my magic
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| TAADOW! |
| New Jackin got it crackin like Nino’s
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| Stackin like casinos, bomb like the primos
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| Make your crack dough black, attack like karate
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| Always beamed up like Scotty, I control your body
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| Leave ya numb, red rum, slug like a Dodger
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| Nothin bomber than this Westside ghetto ganja
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| Hundred proof pure dopeness and it seems
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| Heavy as a Chevy, too much for a triple beam
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| Fiend for the microphone, one pop ya drop
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| And it don’t stop, I can’t stop
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| Mack 10 and I won’t stop
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| So take a hit (I'm gonna get you high today)
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| Shiit! |
| (I'm gonn get you high today)
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| Shiit!
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| Got that one-hitter quitter shit so take a whiff
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| Need a torch to light my spliff, work the late night shift
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| Get my drift? |
| Had it sewed up ever since I showed up
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| Cookin up boulders, got a crew full of soldiers
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| Claimin B’s, claimin C’s, everybody Gs
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| Went from laces to Deez, from mo' C’s to ki’s
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| What you need guaranteed to whip and leave ya trippin
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| Like your sane, I sippin, funky germ dippin
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| Make you tweak, lose sleep, I creep like a phantom
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| Ran em then I win em, all up in em like venom
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| Got the lotions, slow motion, hit the magic potion
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| Don’t panic, satanic, devotions, convulsions
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| Wipe your whole crew out, niggas get blew out
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| Hides behind a stockin while the bomb’s tick-tockin
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| Keep rockin and it don’t quit, it’s Mack 10 the shit
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| So press your luck but’cha know you can’t fuck wit it
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| Take a hit |