| Look, I’m from Westside California, they run up on ya
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| Ask you where you from and check yo' tats under yo' clothin'
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| Hustla, go hard make sure my knot swollen
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| Fuck it, say the wrong hood, bullets explodin'
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| I trust few people these days 'cause that’s golden
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| I seen niggas get killed for who they roll with
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| And chose to keep inside they circle
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| Satan sittin' on your sofa
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| Same nigga that shot you was the one you used to smoke with
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| Cold shit, my whole clique notorious
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| You’ve heard of us, six Os is murderers
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| You still servin' clucks, jealous nigga, you broke as fuck
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| Yo bitch on my nuts, spillin' Patrón out my cup
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| She can’t get enough, buffer me down as I puff on the finest kush
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| They say I be doin' too much, I just do my stuff
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| Yeah, I just do my stuff
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| Hussle, Hussle
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| Blue Laces, shell cases, we catch bodies, we don’t leave no traces
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| Big faces, suitcases, if you ain’t know, hoe, we gettin' paid, bitch
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| Blue Laces, shell cases, we catch bodies, we don’t leave no traces
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| Big faces, suitcases, if you ain’t know, hoe, we gettin' paid, bitch
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| I got Slauson on my back, Ed Hardy on my hip
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| Weight of the world on my shoulders, gold rollie on my wrist
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| Neighborhood chucks, blue checkerboard tint
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| Dickies saggin' off my ass, walk with a hoodsta limp
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| Two bricks on my white tee, same color cocaine
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| I ain’t talkin' dope, I mean the price of my gold chain
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| All money in, no money out, that was my slogan
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| What I mean by that is stack it up and don’t spend no change
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| I started small time, dope game, cocaine
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| Seven grams was thirty rocks, that was my program
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| The block propane, young nigga, no change
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| Shoot-out with no aim, so they know yo name
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| 'Cause where yo mama paid rent, that was yo gang
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| So when yo homeboy bled, that was yo pain
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| And if y’all both catch a case, you don’t say no names
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| That’s just the code of the color of my shoe strings
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| Blue Laces, shell cases, we catch bodies, we don’t leave no traces
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| Big faces, suitcases, if you ain’t know, hoe, we gettin' paid, bitch
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| Blue Laces, shell cases, we catch bodies, we don’t leave no traces
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| Big faces, suitcases, if you ain’t know, hoe, we gettin' paid, bitch
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| Been so many places, seen so many things
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| Niggas stood against tryna chase that cream
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| This ain’t livin'
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| This ain’t livin, no
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| You thinkin' you gettin' paid, hustlin' everyday
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| My homies passin' away, no
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| This ain’t livin' (Hustle, nigga)
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| This ain’t livin, no
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| Look
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| What happened to the code? |
| Streets all in shambles
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| Niggas powderin' they nose, put the shame to what we stand for
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| They think we on some kill another nigga shit
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| We really on some stay down and diligent
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| The streets is cold, turn innocence to militants
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| Young niggas gangbangin' for the thrill of it
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| Pops was gone, moms was never home
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| But the streets was right there so they took you as they own
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| Blue Laces, shell cases, we catch bodies, we don’t leave no traces
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| Big faces, suitcases, if you ain’t know, hoe, we gettin' paid, bitch
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| Blue Laces, shell cases, we catch bodies, we don’t leave no traces
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| Big faces, suitcases, if you ain’t know, hoe, we gettin' paid, bitch |