| Now put your cards on the motherfucking table and see whats, what
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| Give life the dick hard she a slut
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| That will make her feel it in her gut
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| Then I move to my career
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| So fuck your perspective, your thoughts get neglected
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| Like Muggsy’s shot and Marcus Camby rejection
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| Hit the sixth row, pass the courtside section
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| I know you clown niggas must be kidding
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| This lefrak commission, put a ending to your vision
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| This rap shit turn five to sixth sense’s
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| I know your profile, I’m like a hood human census
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| Major factor, nigga not a major actor
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| Deal with major niggas, fuck major bitches
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| Who else but the sho god
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| Open up the book, shit will never be closed
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| Like a spell on the industry, and no one got the code
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| But Al G.A.D.O and S.H.O we the mainstream where
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| Ever we go y’all niggas know
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| From the front to the back, stay packed, fall back
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| It’s a wrap, thugged out rule that
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| I know you mad cause your girl on our back, she with us
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| It’s a wrap, thugged out rule that
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| Don’t want no problems, but if y’all want to clap, we got gats
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| It’s a wrap, thugged out rule that
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| Everywhere we go we get tested at a show
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| We let everybody know
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| I’m let everyone know we shut it down (It's a wrap)
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| Banned from another club again… again
|
| But we’ll get it popping outside my friend (you ain’t gotta let us in)
|
| Banned from another club again… again
|
| But we’ll get it popping outside my friend (you ain’t gotta let us in)
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| Yo, papi and I’m banned from the Roxy
|
| Mad shootout’s and more fights than Rocky
|
| I hold records N. O most connected
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| My died arm strong, your pass intercepted
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| Hoes meet me in the motel, with just a thong
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| We goin' drink smirnoff, bitch, fuck the don
|
| You see my lucky charm, my niggas is on
|
| And I’m a foul nigga bitch, I could fuck you moms
|
| You see I’m banned from the Tunnel, my niggas is foul
|
| Body shit when I come through, like Martha wild
|
| And I would hate to have to, break your face bone
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| For Greystones, have you looking like Grace Jones
|
| Hit niggas up, machete’s will split niggas up
|
| Automatic’s will blast, fifth niggas up
|
| Al Gado, and Sho and this N-O
|
| And if them niggas got beef, them niggas will go
|
| I’m the wrong person to love, easy to judge
|
| And I ain’t perfect, I’ll tell you now I hold a grudge
|
| Because we in the club, rolling thicker than fuzz
|
| The wee dark the same, play this rap like a match
|
| Just spark the game, and tear apart your fame
|
| Blow so much smoke clouds, shit it would start to rain
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| An still flow lovely
|
| Get on stage and get gully
|
| I’m never fall off I got A, B C scully huh.
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| (Hate me or love me) that’s your altermatum
|
| The devil price my soul, I still ain’t pay him
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| But usually they love me, walk in the club
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| An make the crown look like they playing rugby
|
| Ripe show’s on a fradulent stage
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| No matter what y’all say, we living all of our days
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| Spit fire, no matter what the margin pays
|
| Y’all witnessing (Final Chapter) in their starving days
|
| Show us love |