| MC Ren: Yeah, who’s this?
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| Hutch: Yo what’s happening, it’s Hutch, what’s up dog?
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| MC Ren: What up niggga, what’s happening?
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| Hutch: Yo what’s happening man?
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| MC Ren: Yeah check this out, I ain’t even in right now, leave a message after
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| the beep. |
| I’ll get back, peace
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| Hutch: Yo what’s up man, it’s me man, pick up the phone nigga, it’s Hutch man,
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| what’s up?
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| MC Ren: Ey what’s up dog?
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| Hutch: What’s up?
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| MC Ren: Nigga, what time is it man?
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| Hutch: Hell I don’t know man, I’m just saying man, I was calling to see what’s
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| popping, what’s going down man?
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| MC Ren: Nigga, I’m about to rest dog
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| Hutch: Man it’s Saturday and shit, and you talking about rest
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| MC Ren: Man I’ve been in the motherfucking studio up all night nigga
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| Hutch: Man fuck that studio, let’s get to some parties, bitches
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| MC Ren: Ey, ey fuck what you going through dog
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| Hutch: Ah, ah Ren, Ren what’s up, ah, nigga hang up on a nigga and shit
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| Come on and step on in, no turnin back
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| While I drop shit that have your mind turnin black
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| Nigga I break God damn necks, when I drop verses
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| And blind your sight, from the shit that I recite
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| Live from Compton it’s Saturday night
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| But ain’t no joke, cause I don’t play that shit
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| Niggas you know I ain’t no motherfuckin comic
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| Droppin street knowledge, plus a nigga Islamic
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| Hoodrats they do the hoochie boogie for a fuck
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| But that shit don’t be workin
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| When I’m rollin in my truck, the farthest they get is a big wheel
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| For real, and bitch-made-niggas get they caps peeled
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| When I walk, puts a hole in the floor, with the steel toe
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| As if you didn’t know, now that you know nigga act like you knew
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| And if you continue trippin, motherfuck you
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| I’m walkin with my niggas
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| With the help of 187 on this tight ass track
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| So step the hell back, and you can’t afford to sleep
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| Because my shit gets deep
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| Ok, time for me to rustle more shit, represent to the fullest
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| Everytime that I’m spit, get’cha lit
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| Get’cha lifted, get’cha high as you wanna go
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| Breakin fools off that wanna floss your gold
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| Cause I hate flossers and I hate braggers
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| I hate short stoppers and I hate laggers
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| On the real, niggas be wanna Free Kick It pass
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| So they can beat your shit, and jack your ass
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| I give em 187 times to try
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| But on the real, they better off committin suicide
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| Slide me the TEC Ren, so I can show 'em
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| That I’m not to be trusted, and not to be fucked with
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| And definately not that motherfucker
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| They wanna press they luck with
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| I keep it goin uncut, and if I get mad enough
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| I shoot they whole fuckin set up
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| And don’t say I didn’t warn ya
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| It ain’t funny, when you be a victim by the corner
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| 187 be the gate keeper
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| Cause where I’m from, the shit gets deeper
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| My shit gets backed up for days and days
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| It’s hard to sleep, my shit is too deep
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| Well how in the hell am I gonna deal with new niggas
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| That be comin hollerin wolf, and ain’t put out shit yet
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| Rollin down the street in my 4−5-0
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| Throwin wack niggas shit out my window
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| Cause rarely do I see niggas that be comin with that funky ass shit
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| That make you say fuck ay, go shoot a nigga down
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| But here comes that black nigga that they call Ren
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| Makin niggas go and act crazy again
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| Niggas be fuckin fools for the hell of it
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| Some down old niggas better not come this way
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| Cause I just don’t give a fuck
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| Cause I get in a baby gangsta mode
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| Bitch slappin niggas with my fist
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| Cause I insist I’m a hell of a lyricist
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| But my roots in the street
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| Killin playa haters over some wicked ass beats
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| Me and my niggas come and get your ass
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| Then me and my niggas beat up on that ass
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| Cause me and my niggas, nigga, love the creep
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| When the shit gets deep, it gets deep |