| I roll slow through my city and Norwalk be the spot
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| Where Lil Cuete kicks it, drinking, smoking pot
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| Strolling through the One-Ways, the fun ways where I stay
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| And if you got some pleto homeboy bring it my way
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| I’m nothing but the real thing and to me you ain’t nothing
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| So step up to me ese so I can show you something
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| You know I’m always packing; |
| I’m everything you’re lacking
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| And somebody like you, can’t handle someone like me
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| I’m never taken lightly
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| And if you think I’m bluffing come and try me
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| And you’ll see I’m just like my click
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| I’m getting crazy, amazing to be this fucking sick
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| A lot of down ass vatos but your the one I picked
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| To me you’re just a bitch, a stupid ass lame
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| Not even from a gang, just trying to claim the fame
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| I’ll tell you one more time, its Norwalk what I bang
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| We’re all sick in the mente, crazy insane
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| I’m downing fools that shit talk
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| I represent the sick box
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| I’m wrapping fools in zip blocks
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| He had nothing but sick thoughts
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| Money filled in big pots
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| We’re never using eye drops
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| Never will our high stop
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| Never will our high stop
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| Bitches late at night tripping off the cloud of pipes
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| Starting a gun-fight with another rival
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| Shooting 'em down with a rifle
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| The number One Gun is me
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| Remember when you change the Q in to C
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| But fuck the C I’ll cross it out
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| Right before I take you out
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| I’m taking a trip to the beach
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| And I’m throwing him off the at pier
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| Fear when I’m near, no one will hear
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| When I’m throwing him under
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| Fool, it’s the one whenever you think that I’m leaving
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| I’m leaving you bleeding
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| The Demon deceive 'em whenever I’m coming ahead
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| Shooting them all until their dead, until their dead
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| Yeah… Little Peter Cuete
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| If anybody got offended by this motherfucking album
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| I just got one thing to say to you.
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| FUCK YOU! |
| Huh… little gun and I’m out |