| Ice City jewels we na' pity
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| Zino Records
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| Ha ha ha ha ha!
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| 5ive Music
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| It’s that nigga, Nina with the Nina
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| Huh!
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| New crib mad, by the gates got the cameras
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| Moved out the hood now I got neighbours like Flanders
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| Cah I’m chandelier livin', room marble
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| New watch lookin' like I shipped it in from Basel
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| My nigga Rizzy on the train, bringin' down a parcel
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| Still calling shots like I’m giving out samples
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| Earning bare dough these shoes on my feet are old school Italian,
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| like Totti and Del Piero
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| Usually drunk when I leave the dance
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| Before I go home I gotta feed these plants
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| Your re-up probably fit in a bra, my re-up couldn’t fit in a car
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| Back in jail I only had 8 channels
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| Had 'em puttin' letters in the box like scrabble
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| Niggas lying 'bout their AKs and how they been in war
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| They don’t roll with Dracos like Gryffindor
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| Shoutouts to my nigga Bunds that’s a real spartan
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| The roof on my new whip’s on a milk carton
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| When you was up in Lovebox sweating nigga
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| I was in that bud box sweating nigga
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| These days it’s like I live in the tent
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| Copped my first Q tied to a brick like cement
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| Stepped my game up, iced out everytime you saw me
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| Ain’t just fly in the web like a spider caught me
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| School days selling weed on my scooter
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| Sittin' on 40 ounces like Sharif on the cooler
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| I was selling crack on the strip
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| Posted with the fiends, out there with more pipes than the back of my whip
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| Labeled me a boss when I was on the curb slanging
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| Threw me on the wing, said I was a bird barren
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| My nigga Kilo would break a brick down into stones
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| Nina been whipping since Indiana Jones
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| Seen empires turn to sand, hands on with the B
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| I got dirty hands
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| Popped a pack of cookies, it weren’t Marylands
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| It’s different on my block
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| When you was cropping pictures, I was giving out pictures of my crop
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| Certified rapstar, I bring them groupies through
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| On my Spielberg shit, I don’t just rap I make movies too
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| Wish a nigga spin on me', cah I got my ting on me
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| Suun in the stizzy, that’s the same size as Likkle T
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| Before rap I ran these streets
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| Had niggas ticking boxes like canteen sheets
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| And I been in cunch grindin', ain’t been home for days
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| I ain’t rolling haze, I only smoke Yelaze
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| When they was poppin' bottles, I was on my extra grind
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| This rollie on my wrist ain’t to check the time
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| Where I’m from niggas get high off of needles
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| Have you seen the Sopranos? |
| My life’s like the sequel
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| It’s Nines |