| Just another day out in sunny LA
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| There’s dealers in the streets and the coppers don’t play
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| Got my 501 jeans, my crew neck sweater
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| Saggin' in my pants cuz I don’t know better
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| In any weather we stay the flyest
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| Killas on my side case u suckas wanna try us
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| Numbers in my phone, I’m so player
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| Feelin' so good I think I might run for mayor
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| I might run for mayor
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| Nigga ask your momma I’m a muthafuckin' player
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| If I see your girlfriend starin', I’m a take her
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| That’s word to my cousin up in Oakland with the scraper
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| 501 jeans yeah that’s my flavor
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| Crew neck sweaters in the club, fuck a blazer
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| Button up under case the bouncer is a hater
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| Straight to the bar for a couple shots of jaeger
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| If I see a nice thin light skin I’m a game her
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| Tell her I’m big Mibbs and I’m runnin' for mayor
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| She digs my speeds and guess where I’m a take her
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| Back to the crib where I can blaze her
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| Modern Joe Frazier second round knock out
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| When I pull the cock out, baby see you later
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| I think around 8 or 9 I’m a wake her up
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| Kick her out, then go pick up my paper
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| I might run for mayor
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| Cruise through the city in a booger green pacer
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| Got ya girl wit me, I’m so player
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| Pullin' hoes since Bo Jackson was a Raider
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| Everything’s tailored, from the Chuck Taylor’s
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| Check the steering wheel in my car, that’s gator
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| Sip liquor straight, I don’t need chasers
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| Drink a pint of hen, I’m cursin' like a sailor
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| I’m so major, sit back and watch me
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| Bought my 501's and my sweater from the swap meet
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| Music up loud, coppers wanna stop me
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| Mad cuz I’m young black makin' that broccoli
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| Hangin' wit the possie, niggas wanna copy
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| But I’m too fly so the squares can’t jock me
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| Watch how they jock me, I’m so player
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| Feelin' so good I think I might run for mayor
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| Yeah I might run for mayor
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| I’m scandalous with the papers
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| LA county, the planet of the gangsters
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| Get ya cameras and tapers
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| Ya boy hustle hard like Rambis for the Lakers
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| Riding by zoom but we boom wit the base muffle
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| Fly as a space shuttle, cool as a rain puddle
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| Who wanna make trouble
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| Pimp hand heavy no half stepping
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| Like old school Daddy Kane for ya
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| Its a shame on you, what you lames gone do
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| You’s a bitch, we make it rain on you
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| Yea the dames come through
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| We decked out with hoes, draw circles around tens
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| Then ex out the O’s, boy check out my pose
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| Stan Smith classic fresh out the grove
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| Look who crept out the stove
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| Keep a bad one like she fresh out the Vouge
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| Then we go shopping like we fresh out the clothes
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| Gimme that, shopping bags, popping tags, I’m a smash
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| From the side of the tracks, where the homies talk trash
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| You can only sight see if you got a pass, the mayor
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| I might run for mayor
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| Feelin' so good I think I might run for mayor |