| I won’t stop 'til they feel me dawg
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| They can’t knock a nigga hustle they gotta kill me dawg
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| You can find me on the block my nigga
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| Ain’t nuttin changed, still runnin from the cops my nigga
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| I feel like B.I.G. |
| and 'Pac my nigga
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| «All Eyez on Me,» but I got this nigga
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| P. Miller shoes, camou' top my nigga
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| I’m from the hood so I’m strapped with two Glocks my nigga
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| You wanna scrap but I don’t box my nigga
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| Black Sopranos up in here and you get popped my nigga
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| I told Bob hold me a spot my nigga
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| Case these industry bitches try to stop a nigga
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| Try to sue me but I’m on top my nigga
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| Bentley Coupe, P. Miller rims, convertible top my nigga
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| Keep my enemies close and watch my friends
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| And I’ma rep the New No Limit 'til the casket bend
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| We did it once, we’ll do it again
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| I don’t follow I lead my nigga I set trends
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| Yo, all you blacks in white, I promise you these two techs create
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| Enough firepower to make a coward’s chest deflate
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| See Poppa pull up to yo' sets and spray, so you ain’t gotta be
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| On public housing to get yo' section ate/eight — ayyyy
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| Now won’t you chumps go dare front for?
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| Get dumped on tryin to knock my hustle like a front do'
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| Punk no, you better come off my bread pronto
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| Fo' my guns blow and leave cats wetter than panchos
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| The head honcho, from low peels to sex or grass
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| I bleed on blocks like tampons and maxi-pads
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| Until I’m sleepin on stacks of cash — my triggers
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| Are like niggas around strippers they’ll snap ya ass
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| Keep actin bad, the two-buck can eat ya whole crew up
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| So you ain’t gotta come down to Houston to get Screwed Up
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| I move more yellow on the block than a school bus
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| So if you need a clique to hate on then don’t choose us |