| This ain’t no game man
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| A lot of people look from the outside from in
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| Thinking that it’s easy man
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| You know what I’m saying, not realizing we work too
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| You know what I mean, we working everyday hard
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| Getting our hands dirty just like y’all
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| But y’all think y’all better
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| (Musolini)
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| Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
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| I pledge allegiance to money, weed, jewels, hoes, and big guns
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| While you dealing in crumbs and stacking funds
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| Squeezing the ones, so jealous sons have em speaking in tongues
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| Headed for these slums, screaming at the top they lungs
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| Bitch made cats, find em wherever you at
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| Your man in you face will stab you in the back
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| Life’s a bitch, so rub up and fuck it
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| You live your life, you gotta love it
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| Six double o, used to whip a bucket
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| Left the strip cause niggas like five seven tips
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| Hood of lose lips, iced my necklace to my wrists
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| Long with the stones on my fists
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| Niggas hating me, cause I got chips
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| Left the hood rich
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| Nutin but diamond dis, head from a bitch
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| In the back of a thugged out whip
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| Why not shit
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| Devilish, your crabs ain’t shit
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| Mad at this, certain gentle wrist
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| (Chorus: Maze)
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| It’s not a game nigga
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| Me move in and move out
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| Most niggas try to follow the route
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| But they can’t see what we see
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| Thugged out like wherever we be
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| (Noreaga)
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| Now that’s that shit that I’m talking about and shit
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| Same niggas that you fucking wit
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| Fucking wit them cats that you don’t fuck wit
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| Whatcha supposed to do?
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| Both of them are part of the crew
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| Can’t choose side (true)
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| I don’t know, I don’t like to go that road
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| If that’s your click, I suggest that you stay wit them yo
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| While say break up to make up
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| I say stick together god until y’all cake up
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| Bitches meet me at the crown plaza
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| On they period, it don’t matter
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| I’m in the head something serious
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| It ain’t a game god, yo it never was
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| I get super high, while y’all niggas get a buzz
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| My associates that I use to sit and chill wit
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| Now it’s only family I like to deal wit
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| That I like to build wit
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| Get high, hold steel wit
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| So let’s do this, all my niggas run through this
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| (Maze)
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| The money attitudes the cay in
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| To many snakes in the way
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| A getting paid playing laid-back on my days in
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| I want to enter fortune but which way in
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| Wit out getting lost in a storm
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| My pen pages reflect Maze
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| Why steps from his H on, shades beyond the grave
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| Golden braids hang from my physical
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| Bitched scare me
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| Move mystical enchanting branson weed at me
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| I’m like fan of B
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| Vanish from the scene in a blur
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| But barely seen, clearly heard in my action
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| And act civil, my palm sizzle from the heat in my hand
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| We’re in your land like a hard drizzle
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| To reach my pinnacle is minimal
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| Sinister style, thugged out, nigga sending you foul |