| A Million… A Million…
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| A Million…
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| A Million… A Million…
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| A Million… A Million…
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| I’ll never say I’m the shit I’m too clean for that
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| But I will say I’m sick, no strings attached
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| That, you can promise, don’t need a ring for that
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| Try get my whole crew rich, so my team can match
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| Honestly niggas can’t fly with no wings attached
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| So I’m in a G-5 with the screens intact
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| And I’m a really swell guy just to be exact
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| Fact is I’ve been worldwide just to take it back
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| My 'I canget you high' lines make em fiend like crack
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| So It’s Coke Keys I’m dishin till my seat lean back
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| And the dollar bills flipping till the gold card black
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| Get four cars to match, I’ma leave it at that
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| Spit four bars for rapping we can meet in the back
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| I mean the top, the lord knows I don’t know how to act
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| I didn’t start at the base, cause the top attracts
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| Still first in the race, see how they react
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| What’s that… ha… just to spit facts
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| Keep me abstract in combat
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| I’ve spent about (a million) bucks on the streets alone
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| Cause it’s like, the hundreds is my home and I’m
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| At Alife everyday
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| Nigga Rogue Status, okay
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| This pad is my shield, pen’s my sword for real
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| Embrace the martian, turn the whole world to clover field
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| Negotiations when I heard 'em say they’d give me the mill-
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| Open up the briefcase and shit, I’ll take that deal
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| No bitch denying me I’m chasing money cause see
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| Red, White and green Parmesan I need extra cheese
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| That drip like Krink, but in cans nigga spray it
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| Fuck love, all I’ve got for hoes is wait, won’t say it
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| Tryna Stray from cliché I’m rocking my chain anyway
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| Bad bitch on my side, she could get it any day
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| Any day in anyway look there’s a price to pay for jocking my move
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| These niggas watch me like a stage play
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| Peep this head, cracker, ho smacker
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| Whack rapper, attack her, Internet hacker
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| No slacker, best factor, west division bracket
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| Act like you know TH on the jacket
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| Not a DJ but I scratch it while you hack it
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| Make you go go like gadget, perform magic
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| Without a wand, I drop bombs, without Saddam
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| A vet without 'nam, I make sense without common ground
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| (A million) Rappers wanna be like me I said, (A million) niggas tryna touch
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| mike g
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| (A million) rappers all tryna prevail yeah, (A million) try but a million fail
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| 07, west coast legend, make the game different
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| I don’t know why the hell these niggas say it didn’t
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| Versus best written, clothes are my addiction
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| Nine days out the week I’m in the lab spittin'
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| Or in the cab pimpin' bitches that look like you
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| Cause the seats all white and the coupe’s light blue
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| I’m a crook like you, cats back in my city
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| Said they had the King beat dawg, what could I do?
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| Know what I’m supposed to style, I’m coolest nigga’s poster child
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| Bet everybody nobody know my style
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| It’s ironic and what not, how niggas gonna cop
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| An iced out g-shock just because its hot
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| Ask, I ain’t gotta Obama shirt to say the least
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| I won’t carry around a President that’s not deceased
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| And I’m sorry but it’s true, pay me, fuck you
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| This verse is to guarantee that he can’t be beat
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| And my main goal is just to have some fun
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| Cause the scoreboard don’t show you how the game was won
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| But west coast mothafucker, what’s fucking with them
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| Not a damn thing nigga, we doin' our damn thing
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| A million… A million… |