| El Mariel
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| Yea niggas, Welcome to Dade County
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| Where we slang rocks that claim blocks
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| And those red and blue lights just keep our streets hot
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| C’mon and ride with a nigga so I can show you what Dade County really got
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| See don’t be fooled by South Beach
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| Thinking when you come to the Bottom you can just run these streets
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| You and your jewels are like a menu
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| And trust me nigga we intend to eat
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| F**k around and cross that I-395
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| You just run into a bunch of dead end streets
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| Niggas with wifebeaters and bare feet
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| That’s right, I’m talking straight goon style
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| Go beyond that about 3 miles and you’re now entering the infamous Lil Havana
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| Now I know yall studio gangsters be vibing off the movie «Scarface»
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| But the wrong move in this place, you’ll f**k around and meet the real Tony
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| Montana
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| So f**k them palm trees
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| I got shit for you to really see
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| Like there’s a graveyard with bury sub with niggas buried 4 generations deep
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| And I ain’t even talking about sister lined next to brother
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| I’m talking granddaddy to grandmother piled up on top of each other
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| And all that rap about you’re Lil Haiti connections?
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| Nigga you don’t even know a real zo
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| But I can introduce you to one that’ll kick in your door
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| Put you faced down on the floor
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| And have your whole family wiring money from Chicago
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| But you a star, though
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| Okay, nigga if you a real G
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| This is where you tell your car to go
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| Opa Locka
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| Where there is continuous spotlight helicopters and a triangle full of choppers
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| Carol City will make holes in you so big, they can’t be plugged by doctors
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| Nigga, this is the real Dade County
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| Where we are soldiers from birth to the hurst
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| That’s why my childhood consisted of a bulletproof vest and a pyrex
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| Nigga, you haven’t even seen the real Miami, yet
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| So Welcome to Miami-Dade County, the real Miami
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| Where we live and die, for life |