| Uhh, King Jacob
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| Yeah, Fala Beats
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| Murph, Durph, ohh (Derrty E.N.T.)
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| We all we got
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| My niggas we gon' stomp, that’s what we gon' do
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| The girls gon' bounce, the gangstas gon' groove
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| My nigga we gon' stomp, that’s what we gon' do
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| The playas gon' win, the haters gon' lose
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| I said we gon' stomp, that’s what we gon' do
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| The girls gon' bounce, the gangstas gon' groove
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| My nigga we gon' stomp, that’s what we gon' do
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| The playas gon' win, the haters gon' lose
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| I said we gon' stomp
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| 7 in a day roller, bong smoker, dope choker
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| Fo'-fo' two hundred spoker, Polo sporter, bet I poke her
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| Call me Mr. Roper, medulla oblongata slicer
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| Shoot dice up, pursue the juice that move the price up
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| 'F' you if you don’t like us, fool, your life up
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| Me removin my foot from ya ass know that’s that screwed my Nike up
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| Like Ruben I’m uhh, «Sorry» for my rap presence in the game bein Derrty
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| Now I rock 'til two-thousand-forty
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| Last call for that Bacardi
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| It be me bein corny on TV with Barbies, think some girls in Cali saw me
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| Cause I’m a flyer individual while hire individuals
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| I’ll fire individuals, I’m critical
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| A King (King) named Jacob (Jacob)
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| Me, Murph Durph make missies poke end up in mini-skirts
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| Game shooter, high poster, aim through the
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| Center of the frame, we Derrty-ly Entertain
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| For you nosy, you nosy muh’fuckers, barbershop-ass niggas
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| Yo, aiyyo Timb' boots, starch jeans, brand new, white tee
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| Hundred dollar button on, mo' colors than Ice-T
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| Haters didn’t like me, «School Daze» like Spike Lee
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| Now most likely like Mike Tyson they bite me
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| Dressed just like me, dreads just like me
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| Nine times out of ten they more fruity than Hi-C
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| Gon' head and bite him then, offer that fool a Heinekin
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| Claimin that he tighter then, don’t add up so I’m minus’in
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| Always in her vagina when under blankets like Linus man
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| (Why?) Cause I da man and all royal My Highness and
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| Rolls truck, turkey leather seats with a hole in it
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| Beef-brown woodgrain, pork didn’t go with it
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| Fish tank in the trunk, chickenhead on my lap
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| Even King Jacob, now he gettin head in the back
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| Hoes, clothes, automo’s, smokin 'dro, all I know
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| All them questions leave 'em on the other side of the MO
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| We gon' stomp down the club flo', stomp down the punk ho
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| Stuck coast-to-coast niggas slump from the steel-toe
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| Write me a stomp rhyme, beat down and stomp mines
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| Beat a punk nigga to the flo' and you know it’s stomp time
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| Fuck a two-step, like a band march
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| On the good foot, for your hood boy
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| Church better recognize, Mr. Prentiss for president
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| Bitches better pay ya ties, we keep a rappin veteran
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| Derrty knockin let me in, known for kickin the door dawg
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| Think that you better niggas show me, let’s have a stomp-off
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| Go hard, stack your cheese up until you can’t see the sky
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| Haters be hatin, love to hate me but wanna be this guy
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| Catch him at his foul play, hawk him like a hallway
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| Chalk him and mash him, happens often, matter fact, all day
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| Haters can’t stand us, stomp if ya cash up
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| Hoes twist that ass up, now stomp — c’mon, faster |