| What you workin' with? |
| That my facecard
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| That’s your facecard
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| Cicero on the beat
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| Tie his motherfuckin' facecard
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| What you workin' with?
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| What you workin' with? |
| I’m workin' with my facecard
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| Break your damn wrist cookin' up that straight hard
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| Yeah, and I’m goin' straight hard, dumb with the K
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| Then make bond on my face, 'cause I’m done with the case, beat it
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| Twelve-fifty, twelve-fifty, two bands on my shoes
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| Shoot a fifty, shoot another fifty, 'til we make the news
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| Went full petty in a minute, Asian bitch showed me her boobs
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| Wish for opps tellin' game, and they swipin' and start scammin'
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| I’m on Xannies in the Lamby, might do the dash and go crash it
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| I’m on perkies while I’m workin', I’m booted, got bad habits
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| I put blues on the jeweler, got VV’s on top of baguettes
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| I’m the dapper don with that, I wear Dior, new Air Maxes
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| Four-four-forty-eight, we fax 'em
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| Thousand we made out the plastic
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| She tokin' on dick like it’s acid
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| I pull up in coupe, Jurassic
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| Wings, pterodactyl
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| I’m on a bean, pop a capsule
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| Rollie freeze, I’m Alaska
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| Servin' chicken platter like it’s pasta
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| I want every dollar like Little Rascal
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| My daddy dead and I’m a bastard
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| I got a buck fifty, cut you like a Bronx nigga
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| Real swamp nigga, pump gon' make you jump, nigga
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| Boom, baow, two-step, DJ Unk, nigga, huh?
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| Yeah, in my black tee I still trump niggas
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| I hit licks in my black tee, I’m still a gold-digger
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| Take your chain and your Rollie, come up out your shoes, nigga
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| Grabbed my chain and my Rollie 'fore I went to school, nigga
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| I’m a walkin' ice maker, I wear nothin' but cubes
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| All my diamonds bling blaow, look like molly cubes
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| Ain’t no tuckin' in my chain, I feel like Ice Cube
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| Got that 'stendo with my forty, I might make the news
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| Neighborhood crippin', all my homies got the blues
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| Lockin' Enz' in the pen, chain gang rule
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| He just got ten with a ten, everybody food
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| I popped a bean once again to match my attitude
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| I put them Forgis on that bitch to match my gratitude
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| I put a lift kit on my raps to lift my longitude
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| I bang a left, I bang a right, get out my latitude
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| Margiela steppin' on the radical, I serve you rabbit food
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| I watch my plays like Mark Cuban, got my eyes on every move
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| I just flooded two new Cubans just to make they eyes move
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| I’m a walking brick of dog food, with them bill jacks
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| Way I cut the brick in half, call my Longway lumberjack
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| Yeah, in my black tee I still trump niggas
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| I hit licks in my black tee, I’m still a gold-digger
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| Take your chain and your Rollie, come up out your shoes, nigga
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| Grabbed my chain and my Rollie 'fore I went to school, nigga
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| I’m a walkin' ice licker, I wear nothin' but cubes
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| All my diamonds bling blaow, look like molly cubes
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| Ain’t no tuckin' in my chain, I feel like Ice Cube
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| Got that 'stendo with my forty, I might make the news |