| Gold Haze on the track
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| JDFeng keep it swanging and banging
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| No More Heroes, man, ready for this new shit
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| Ayy
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| Just sit back, see how I play it, Shiesty switched it up a notch
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| Let the dope cook on the stove, we turn the eye down, watch the pot
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| 1017 'round my chain so I tote the same 'mount of shots
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| Palm Angels denim huggin' me, pockets keep growin', knots
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| And I ain’t had shit when I got out, had to snake my way to the top
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| Left two men down, we got 'em shot, blrrd, blrrd, switch out the Glock
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| Mug around me, get you popped, I treat everybody like opps
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| We move with flip phones and pagers 'cause them iPhones get shit locked
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| Buy firearms and narcotics, do first-degree boys and robberies
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| Had these rollin' Backwoods of them dead opps, I had to spark
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| Double cup filled up with Wocky, that medicine in my body
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| I signed a deal and went and bought a P, put the vacuum seals in my projects
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| You wanna order up a hunnid? |
| Sixty bags of 'em was garbage
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| You know I’m slimy as it get, I got outta here off a noggin
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| And no I can never put up my fire', that’s a never, not even probably
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| Since a youngin', been shit poppin', since Truey joggers and Robins
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| We backseat nigga for flodgin', leave his head like Dennis Rodman’s
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| When I pop out Richard Mille, bet they say Shiesty the hardest
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| Beside rap I was gettin' rich regardless
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| Everybody keep on yappin' till them .62 get to sparkin'
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| Just sit back, see how I play it, Shiesty switched it up a notch
|
| Let the dope cook on the stove, we turn the eye down, watch the pot
|
| 1017 'round my chain so I tote the same 'mount of shots
|
| Palm Angels denim huggin' me, pockets keep growin', knots
|
| And I ain’t had shit when I got out, had to snake my way to the top
|
| Left two men down, we got 'em shot, blrrd, blrrd, switch out the Glock
|
| Mug around me, get you popped, I treat everybody like opps
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| We move with flip phones and pagers 'cause them iPhones get shit locked
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| Got a .40 on me right now, I ain’t never scared (Never scared, know that)
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| I’ll shoot this bitch up right now 'cause I never cared (Bah)
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| Gangster to the core with the war like a leather-head
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| Eyes hurt, they sore 'cause I seen some shit I never said
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| Thinking about my boy, don’t sip Rémy, I just pour it
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| We got blow outs on the score, we couldn’t catch 'em so his brother dead
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| Bring it to your door, spent a milli', ran up four
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| Big ol' hammer like I’m Thor 'cause my Cubans cost a hundred grand
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| Stupid, is you stupid? |
| I got one up, I shoot it (Grrt)
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| I got bands on a man, rock designer like I loot it
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| Bloody hearts, I’m not cupid, seven cars, this my new whip (Skrt)
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| Front line where I stood for your hood, you ain’t do shit
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| Just sit back, see how I play it, Shiesty switched it up a notch
|
| Let the dope cook on the stove, we turn the eye down, watch the pot
|
| 1017 'round my chain so I tote the same 'mount of shots
|
| Palm Angels denim huggin' me, pockets keep growin' knots
|
| And I ain’t had shit when I got out, had to snake my way to the top
|
| Left two men down, we got 'em shot, blrrd, blrrd, switch out the Glock
|
| Mug around me, get you popped, I treat everybody like opps
|
| We move with flip phones and pagers 'cause them iPhones get shit locked
|
| Blrrd (Blrrd, blrrd, blrrd, blrrd)
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| (Blrrd, big blrrd, blrrd) |