| Run it, Houston Texas
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| You now rocking, with the Killa Kyleon
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| Hit spitter nigga, hey
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| We Boss Hogging, up in here
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| That’s what we do, we Boss Hogging
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| We Boss Hogging, up in here
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| That’s what we do, we Boss Hogging
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| We Boss Hogg in this motherfucker
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| We Boss Hogg in this motherfucker (what you say)
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| We Boss Hogg, in this motherfucker
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| We Boss Hogg, in this motherfucker
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| I got money, but Killa don’t spoil her
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| And after I cut her mayn, Killa don’t call her
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| Now that’s the true, definition of a baller
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| Knock a chick down, and don’t give a chick a quarter
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| I’m a candy blue, 22 inch crawler
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| 7−45, I retired my Impala
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| I’m a hustler, all about a dolla
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| And if it ain’t about money, I ain’t gon holla
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| Plus I’m a pimp, I’mma pop my colla
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| Po' up the white cup, then take a swalla
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| The best rappers, will respect that nigga
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| And if the beat jamming, I’mma wreck that nigga
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| I’m the greatest, get it through your melon nigga
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| I’m the best yet, I been telling niggas
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| A hot boy, I’ve been selling nigga
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| Cause this man’s on fire, I’m Denzel’ing niggas
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| I’m not a reverend, but I preach to these niggas
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| I’m one of the hottest rappers, in the streets to these niggas
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| I comfortably speak heat, to these niggas
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| All you other cats whack, I been peeping these niggas
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| Not a DJ, but K slay niggas
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| Killa with the flow, I DK niggas
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| The best rapper, since that BK nigga
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| 2Pac, Biggie and that Freeway nigga
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| My name’s Killa, I’ll lyrically murder ya
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| You’re not a rapper, if I ain’t heard of ya
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| You not getting good dope, if I ain’t serving ya
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| You’re not getting whipped G, what are you nervous for
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| I spit facts, on the track boy
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| I’m even known in St. Louis, and I ain’t a track boy
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| Ask around, I’m the hottest nigga rapping
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| With just another gat, that’s on the track yapping |