| Set it here, set it here
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| What is this, boy, what’s the deal here
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| What’s the deal here?
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| Come on with it, come on with it, speak up
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| Speak up, you better be cool, suckas
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| You better be cool
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| You don’t know who I am, do you, chump?
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| I’m the death to you, boy
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| To you, and you, and you, better remember now
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| What goes around, comes around
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| I’m coming here, don’t fuck me with now
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| You’ll be dead
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| Yo, Tommy what you doing out here, man?
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| (Our little Tommy is thugging)
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| You only 13, man, you should be in the crib, man
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| You know if your brother was here, man
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| (Selling drugs and he’s buggin')
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| You know what they do to you, man
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| Word, I’ll let him know, Jamaica, Queens
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| (Our little Tommy is thugging)
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| When we get smoked out, we just be buggin'
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| Knowhatimsayin', check it
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| (Our little Tommy is thugging)
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| Yo, yo, yo
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| Aiyo, I’m looking for that Dolly Parton
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| So I skeet right on her salad garden
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| Key up her ignition, after, whippin' it, I’m valet parking
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| Fine grape Buddha, now we sparking
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| Fingers cob webbin', cop weed from four Jamaican’s bobsledding
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| I’m top rank with the bank, it’s no more stolen cars
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| Fightin' over tuna cans, living off granola bars
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| I put my work in like the Older Gods
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| And gotta mob with status, Martin Lawrence
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| Made it word to Robin Harris
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| And my hood is villain blocks, niggas killin' cops
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| Cops killin' niggas, dirty chicks and penicillin shots
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| I’m sick of seeing bitches lyin' with a straight face
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| Friendly orgies turning into Kobe Bryant’s rape case
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| My block is where the drama take place
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| Fightin' moccasin, dippin' from Johnny Depp and Holly Robinson
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| 21 Jump Street jake, NYPD license plates
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| I write with grace, pipe the eighth, but only if my life’s at stake
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| Yo, I’m trynna get my cash established
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| Three-two, Eyes ----
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| Tommy
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| Little Tommy got his hands on a gun, he only 13
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| Smoking weed, running with thugs that’s like 33
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| He try’na grow too fast, it ain’t cool
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| Cuttin' school, at a hooky party, feelin' on ass
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| Til some hatin' cats came in, Tommy started grippin'
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| Dude looked him up and down, and Tommy got offended
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| Shots rang off, everybody runnin' rampant
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| Little do they know, Tommy loved gun clappin'
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| The kid bounced before he even got hit
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| Messed up when shorty got caught, between that shit
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| Now, who gonna tell honey mom’s how she cut school
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| At a hooky school with girlfriends and wild dudes
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| Who gonna talk to the cop, who gettin' locked for it?
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| Tommy fled the scene, before somebody else saw him
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| He ran fast, down Fulton Ave., tossin' his gun
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| Thinkin' to himself; |
| 'What the fuck I’ve done'
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| Tommy, Tommy
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| Tommy, Tommy
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| Tommy, Tommy, Tommy
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| Tommy, Tommy, Tommy
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| His pops left when he was young, brother got locked up
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| In the car chase, cause somebody got shot up
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| A prime example of a man in your life
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| A little dude like to fight for what’s wrong, and not right
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| Livin' life, it ain’t life no more, homicide outside
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| Lookin' in, about to knock on his door
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| And little Tommy in a jam now, he going out
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| Deja vu, but he seen what his brother would do
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| So he flew out the back, on the run for the rest of his life
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| Somebody told, he did it that same night
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| A news flash, girl shot dead, her family sad
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| And little Tommy couldn’t live with that, he’d rather die
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| Commited suicide, blew his brains out, his moms cried
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| Only son left, took his last breath, closed his eyes now
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| He on the other side, feeling good, talkin' to God
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| Understanding why he had it so hard
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| Tommy is buggin', oh yeah
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| Tommy is thuggin'
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| Tommy hisself, Tommy hisself
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| (Said he thugged and he bugged)
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| Tommy is buggin', Tommy is buggin'
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| (Drugs… did that)
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| Tommy, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy
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| Tommy, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy
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| Tom, Tom, Tom, Tom, Tommy
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| {Brooklyn, nigga, yo Mathematics
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| They ain’t understanding, man
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| This is real serious, word haha
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| It’s a lot of little Tommy’s all over the US ghetto
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| You know what I mean? |
| I mean these young dudes
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| Really don’t know, man, I think the TV
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| Manipulate they minds man, they raising our kids
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| Man, too many of them, we gotta control it, word
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| And this what happens when you can’t control it}
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| (Tommy…) |