| It’s like fuck, it’s King Tut jewelry, blind fury nigga
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| I smoke boogies, conspiracy theory
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| It’s like I’m Malcolm, with just the X These bitches swear they in love but it’s just the X Niggas act like, my coke ain’t long in stress
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| Like I don’t keep two shotguns, under my chest
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| I flip, obsolete see I’m the king of the streets
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| And show muh’fuckers how to rhyme on Neptunes’beats
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| In Miami, Pun shoulda, won the Grammy
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| This year I’ll bring the shit home to his family
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| Go 'head, and keep hatin, until you receive
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| Mad volts in your chest plate, hard to breathe
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| See you a hater like Star &Buc, nigga what
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| And fuck Tommy Boy, them niggaz just suck
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| I’m the ultimate, gun on my dick, hoes swallow my spit
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| Wanna drink every bottle I sip
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| Nigga when that heat, is bustin off
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| And the ambulance come, and rush you off
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| And the witness like — we don’t know dem boys
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| Me and my niggaz goin hey, hey, hey, hey-hey hey
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| Then we resume, hangin with stars
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| Then we live in fat houses and fat ass cars
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| Then we drive and scream — nigga FUCK the law
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| Me and my niggaz goin hey, hey, hey, hey-hey hey
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| Yo, yo I alternated with the greatest, upgraded my speech
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| We Violator violatin, y’all niggaz capiche?
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| It’s unsafe like late night on (?) Beach
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| Drink some river ranches and get slurped at least
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| Let’s have fun wit it, in the Bridge my niggaz dunn wit it Niggaz had hit records, but we done did it Pop a collar; |
| see them chicks they like to holla N.O.
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| You know them hoes already know they gotta swallow
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| Money like Nutty Professor — fat as fuck
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| Four gold albums; |
| ain’t none of it luck
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| Brad Pitt, Fight Club shit, fuckin you up Since you, seem so tense release the mutts
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| I’m connected, the police release my cuffs
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| Call me Fillmore, naw nigga cause I’ma feel more
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| Nigga this my year, you gonna feel Nore
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| Money we got it but still try and feel more
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| Type of niggarole, we must be dunns (Grimey)
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| Toothbrush shanks and rusty guns (Grimey)
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| Nigga get popped can’t hush me son (Grimey)
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| Sellin everything 'til they cuff me dunn (Grimey)
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| 93 Ac’fuck a Range nigga (Grimey)
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| Saliva at the mouth of your chain nigga (Grimey)
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| Reynolds wrap, coke, and doo-rags (Grimey)
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| Never cleanin up, nigga screw that (Grimey)
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| You see we unbreakable, y’all niggaz is uncapable
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| We 2G nigga we use gats that’s untraceable
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| Still smokin, and niggaz know how I do it
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| Keep big shanks, shit’ll cut in half your Buick
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| Just me and shorty, late night in the park
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| And gettin so much brains I’m startin to feel smart
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| Off Beelzebub, feelin my love with cold heart
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| See these fake niggaz, my fists’ll break niggaz
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| We switchin labels, now it’s time to break niggaz
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| We switchin labels, now it’s time to break niggaz
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| Hey, hey, hey, hey-hey hey
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| Violator — nigga what nigga (Grimey)
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| This shit is serious (Grimey)
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| (Grimey) (Grimey)
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| (Grimey) (Grimey). |