| Let’s get
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| Deep, deep into the text, take a couple
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| Years back, how we used to flex, always into
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| Gear, the latest wear, Gucci kicks
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| Forty deuce flicks, fat links, and thick chicks
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| I started in the game pushing weight out of state and robbing
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| Spots and selling Legend Coupes to chop shop
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| Credit card scams? |
| I was too young for that
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| So I picked pockets and stole from the Gap
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| A 9-to-5? |
| Nah, they was bullsh…
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| I wanted ‘nough loot but didn’t wanna work for it
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| Years passed by, I got into the drug dealing
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| To skins I’m appealing, a Jetta I’m wheeling
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| This kid Tyheim said, «You can’t be the man
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| Selling hand-to-hand, you’ll barely make a grand,» and so
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| We started conversating and 8-ball-guzzling
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| Now I’m gun-smuggling and the money’s coming in
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| Me and my two-man crew, so what y’all
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| Wanna do? |
| Even put my partner U.G. |
| on two No diggy
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| Members tried to play important roles, man
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| Now the contract’s bigger than Derek Coleman DC
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| Me? |
| I got control of my life, know
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| Hard times is trife, even thought about a wife, but
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| Some kid named Boss Hogg tried to make my day
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| Wanted the Tall Man dead, but just easy, dread
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| Mob hats, cigars, fat cars, and cellulars
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| It all comes together when you’re rolling with the Good Dwellas
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| Give me the ends, the Benz, plus the skins
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| It all comes together when you roll like the Good Dwellas
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| August 15th
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| ‘94, bop and my red shirt
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| Guest chick twisting up my dreadlocks. |
| It was a
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| Nice day, I was listening to Mary J
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| Blige, the phone rung. |
| Yo, I was surprised
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| It wasn’t my cellular phone, it was the red jack
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| That only rings when a person got to get whacked
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| I answered it. |
| «What up?» |
| Hah, it was my nig' Tall Man. |
| «What up, son?»
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| «What up, kid? |
| How was that party for Def Jam?»
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| He said, «Yo, U.G., this is serious business Word
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| Come to my condo,» so I jetted with the quickness Aight, no doubt, no doubt
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| Before I left, slipped the vest on my back
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| I went to my gun rack and pulled off the MAC
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| Not a Big Mac, a MAC-10. |
| I’m Audi
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| In the maroon Typhoon, looking rowdy
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| A kid’s screwing me at the light as I start to
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| Roll the window down and be like, «What's up now, partner?»
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| There’s no time for that, Pew! |
| I’m gone
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| On the radio «From the land…», it’s on
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| I make a left. |
| There it is. |
| Wait
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| I ring the intercom so he can open up the gates
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| And drive through, camera zoom on the plates
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| My nig' hooked up it up like his name was Scarface—huh!
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| Cool, Phan' was near the pool with two
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| Light-skinned cuties with G-strings up their booties
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| Phan', who’s the cheese? |
| «Ayyo, easy fella»
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| Tell ‘em ‘bout the story, how it go, the Good Dwellas"
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| Mob hats, cigars, fat cars, and cellulars
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| It all comes together when you’re rolling with the Good Dwellas
|
| Give me the ends, the Benz, plus the skins
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| It all comes together when you roll like the Good Dwellas
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| The conversation
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| Begun, Phan' was vexed. |
| I can tell
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| ‘Cause every time he spoke, the vein in his head would swell
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| He said, «Ayyo, this kid Boss Hogg is illing
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| He’s back on the street, and the idiot is killing
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| Our business. |
| What, is this man crazy?
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| U.G., I want him done, Ghost like Patrick Swayze.» |
| «Yo
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| So what’s the dialogue about the Hogg Boss, that is?»
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| «He robbed the barber shop and he dropped four of our kids (Oh word?)
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| He even shook down the jerk chicken and the spots
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| Hit Ty for 30 G’s and 40 Glocks.» |
| As we
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| Leave the estate, a vehicle tailgates
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| Thinking of a plot or a plan to create a di-
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| -version, swerve through curves and through the grass
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| I gotta bolt fast, I find a station real fast
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| (Ding, ding!) «Habib, give me twenty on three.» |
| «Ayyo
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| Word up, G. That’s the same black Infiniti
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| From my crib they followed us, they park right there by
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| The school bus. |
| Buddha bless if they wan' test
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| U.G., fix your vest. |
| Here they’re coming.» |
| «Uh huh.» |
| «I can’t get
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| Live with the two-five, so keep the engine running
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| Then again, chill, pass my Reese’s Pieces
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| Look what I sees: three white DT’s
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| Now peep the Ares that roll in. Brothers on the wall
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| Like pins when you’re bowling, plus the car is stolen
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| Them kids doing bids, seven-to-ten.» |
| «Yeah»
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| «Now who’s gonna stop us now? |
| The Good Dwellas
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| The kingpins»
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| Mob hats, cigars, fat cars, and cellulars
|
| It all comes together when you’re rolling with the Good Dwellas
|
| Give me the ends, the Benz, plus the skins
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| It all comes together when you roll like the Good Dwellas |