| Paulie killed Tony right and Tony killed Ty so it was only right
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| Bring 'em back twenty years, they was homies, tight
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| Sixth grade, for the love of the paper ain’t nothing nice
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| And Paulie just loving life
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| He got them birds and he serving niggas left and right
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| Never used to party in them clubs every night
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| Popping bottles, blowing paper
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| Balling hard, he know they hating
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| But they gon' respect it, cause he rocked Tony
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| And Tony had the hood on smash by his lonely
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| And Paulie getting money so them bitches all on him
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| And his young boys riding, they ready to fall for him
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| Cause word on the street that Paulie did that
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| Used Key gold digging ass to get back
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| Text him through her phone, found out where he live at
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| She woke up in the morning like, I never sent that
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| But she never told Paulie what she saw
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| She was running her mouth, fitting to start a war
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| Cause Tony’s little brother sixteen and up the wall
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| Robbing everything moving and breaking every law (LOOORD)
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| And Paulie on a rise now
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| Niggas that played the middle picking sides now
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| Plus he heard Tony’s brother trying to ride now
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| So he put a check up on his head, he gotta die now
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| Paulie’s youngest on the corner
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| Tony’s little brother he slipping, yea he’s a goner
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| Fucking with that lean, he dipping one in the morning
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| Shots fired, niggas scatter without a warning
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| He strapped too, reach and fixing to get up on 'em
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| The gat jam, he bang back trying to avoid 'em
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| Them niggas dumping, he get up running and hitting on 'em
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| He hit the alley, get a body he dipping on 'em
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| Said it’s on now, try and kill 'em it’s war now
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| Swisher in his mouth while loading his four pound
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| Feeling like he dead there ain’t no remorse now
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| Getting high and he thinking 'bout kicking in doors now
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| Momma and little kids get on the floor now
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| Finger on the trigger he feel that it’s going down
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| Old ladies gotta hear that thunderstorm sound
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| Cause they sad when it rain it really gon' pour down
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| And it’s raining like Katrina, he got thirty in his nina
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| Seen Paulie car dropped thirty in his Bimmer
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| Paulie wasn’t in it when he heared it he was steaming
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| Addicted to the murder so you know that nigga fiendin'
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| And he want this nigga dead before Sunday hit
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| But youngin' tryna live on some Sunday shit
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| And time fly fast it was Monday quick
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| And paulie bout to get back on his gunplay shit
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| And show 'em how it’s done so he loadin' up his gun
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| And show this young nigga he fuck with the wrong one
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| Got a short temper and clutchin' the long gun
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| And it’s on sight he don’t give a fuck if the law come
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| So he out here
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| Ridin' dirty put down them birdies
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| And without fear niggas lurking
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| They tryna murder heared he out there
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| Niggas spin 'em they tryna hit 'em
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| Hitting every corner seeing niggas but he ain’t with 'em
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| Youngin' layin' low he know Paulie ain’t playin' though
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| There’s money on his head and niggas is sayin' go
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| But youngin' he ain’t scared, he cool as a fan though
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| He know it’s get down with that burner or end up a tag-toed
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| It was four in the morn', Paulie goin' home
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| Windshields wiping, middle of the rain storm
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| And Paulie he ain’t slipping yeah he got that thang on
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| You know what he did to Tony he won’t get the same song so
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| When he hit the crib he spin the block before he park it
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| Paulie ain’t bitch at all Paulie just cautious
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| But little did he know niggas in the streets talking
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| And out his rear view it’s like he seen a reaper walking
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| Nigga with a hoodie all you hear is heaters sparking
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| Shot hit the window get low he tryna off him
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| Youngin' boxed him in and Paulie can see the coffin
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| He get to reaching, trigger squeezing, trying get him off him
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| Them shots ringing youngin' squeezing clip empty
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| That’s when Paulie rose like Derrick, put six in him
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| Walked down on him he laying in a puddle
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| Looked him in the face, «you ain’t learn from your brother nigga?» |