| If you don’t drill the replica good
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| The bullet won’t leave and pop
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| ZCBeats
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| More time just swing where the heart is
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| Yo, let me get my hands on Lil Jojo
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| Push my Rambz straight through them glasses
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| In the T, wooden floor, no carpet
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| I’ve been there for time, ain’t clean my armpits
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| Pedal bike on the strip, man’s grafting
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| Man just lean out the ride, start barking (Bow!)
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| OFB’s got too much skengs (Bow!)
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| And we circle round on the opp block
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| Don’t bring phones, just waps instead (We don’t)
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| We ain’t leaving angles bent
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| Too many back doors popped on them
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| Trip up, drop, oh damn, you’re stressed
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| Free Ingz, free Bradz, OYY keeps taking my friends
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| How many man been splashed and shot?
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| We done a drill, laid low from cops
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| See my hunting knife gon' rip through tops (Rip)
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| The PR got wrapped in socks
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| And I’m in a next ends, that’s kway, that’s posh
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| The skeng’s real safe, it’s calm, it’s locked (Locked)
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| And when I rise it, it’s gon' beat like thots
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| It’s gon' beat like thots
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| What’s so hard to go step for your G’s?
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| Me, I will just step and squeeze
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| Did you hear that shotgun sneeze?
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| I think the corn woke her out of her sleep
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| Blame Kermit, he just blammed a neek
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| Talk is cheap, what happened that week?
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| Gang got two but it should have been three
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| Me and Claps in a German doing top speed
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| Right now we need two bad Bs
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| That’s not Cookie, that’s Cali weed
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| Move from here with them tired trees
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| Catch me on the glide in a bruck down Jeep
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| Me, Lil T, MadMax and Creeps (Gang)
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| Opp pulled up late at night and went screen
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| I ain’t heard nothing but the tyres screech (Skrr)
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| Circle the Woods with the spinner on me
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| This kid is a violent G
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| Toured over there with guns back seat
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| Rude boy drop and your feeling this heat
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| Slap this wap, that’s A&E
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| Barbies run and hold up your weave
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| Pull up on yute and dump out three
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| Hella man run, they push and scream
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| And man can’t-man can’t be onto me
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| Cah I’ll run up on your block with Rambo out
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| Tryna fish down one of your G’s (Ching)
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| These guys can’t talk on the team
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| Too many man got chased by me (Runners)
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| Bore you up and the blade I keep (Keep it)
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| And I had shh running from me
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| I’m not gonna lie, I gave him three (I bored him)
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| And man know I’m holding my shank
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| How many times have I unclipped my Rambz?
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| And we had them hiding in blocks
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| It’s straight up ments if you buck this gang (Mothers)
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| Dot-dots slap, just watch it spread
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| Again and again, suttin’s gonna get whacked (Bow!)
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| God knows why they don’t ride back
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| They keep it a mystery, dumb little (Fuck)
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| Don’t slip with your bae and start running away (Don't run)
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| And leave her like Turna
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| Lil Jojo got himself bored up
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| And he’s beefing the O and he still ain’t turned up
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| They got bro-bro on the wing and they caging him in
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| Want him locked like Shmurda
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| But there’s only a matter of time
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| Then broski’s home and that day we turn up
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| But lets give the opps some clout
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| For the way that they run their mouth (Run)
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| They ain’t scored no points on the O
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| But it come like the O be the talk of the town (Why they talking?)
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| Where I’m from, there’s a load of waps
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| But where my opps from, there’s a load of clowns
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| Bad B on man from kway
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| She don’t get no love, only gets one round (One round)
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| Shotty come long like Grace
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| Way to your boy too fucking bait
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| Claps got his suttin' in the rave
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| But true say, true say I’m good anyway
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| Cah I got two Rambo’s on my waist
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| She got a back and a pretty little face
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| She’s like Kay when we going on a date
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| I’m in a bando babe, got grub on the plate
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| Skattz like freeze, a well-known booter
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| He’s known for rising the hoover
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| You don’t wanna get seen in the late night
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| Bro set pace, got blood on his Puma (Splash)
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| You can hold corn for throwing them twos up
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| Free V jugg on the wing with tuna
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| Feds want shh for bootings
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| But I swear down bro’s too clued up
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| Mind where you step
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| OFB’s are the ones that kweff
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| I done been in the field for a sec
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| And I’ve ran man down 'til I run out of breath (Run him down)
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| See my blade gonna rip through flesh
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| Bleach my blade, don’t leave no mess (No mess)
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| And that leaves no stress
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| That’s back to the Trizz, tryna see more bread (More bread)
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| ZCBeats |