| Ughhhh I’m from the city of the go getters I mean the poor niggas
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| With niggas smelt like they richer hoes but they broke niggas
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| And the bitches like the peapop (peapop)
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| And the niggas ride through the hood and like to slang rocks
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| And bitches want to make niggas into they baby daddy’s
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| And niggas still ride old school Caddies
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| And a bunch of block parties and borrowers on the corner
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| And niggas wish they could move to California
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| It never rain in the sun shine cuz down here the murder rate’s high
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| And bitches love to suck a line
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| A lot of gold teeth and nicknames like Big Suo Big Baz Hot Boy and Big Man
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| And you might get a rep if you’re a killer
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| The city of the crawdads bad cops and drug dealers
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| And hoes love you if you’re famous
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| But niggas representin' wards in the projects is dangerous
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| Young nigga got blast at the age of fourteen the dope fiends say
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| Bruise it up cuz he shoot it up everybody suited up screamin'
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| God Why he was a killer and that’s how most killers die
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| I used to tell him slow his roll back in '94
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| He was a trippy dog runnin' from the po-po
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| Robbin' niggas for their rangs and thangs
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| He ran up on the wrong nigga re-arranged his brain
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| Now check it in my city ain’t no Crips and Bloods but niggas yell 3rd ward
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| Come equiped with slugs and niggas soldier rags throwin' at those who bags
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| Kickin' up dust chasin' paper that say in god we trust
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| Now the five can’t do nothin' for my light bill some motherfuckers
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| Might kill for the right skrill in the city we do busy and bust
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| And nigga ya won’t fuck with us nigga what |