| Uh, bad bitch and we tippin' slow
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| Hit the scene turnin' heads
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| So fine she get me hoes, click and pose
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| Chrome heels on her but the lips is swole
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| Turnin' lanes she drop the top
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| They askin' where the stripper pole?
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| Niggas know, in any parkin' lot I crash spots
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| 15s up in the trunk, bought my bitch them ass shots
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| I blast Glocks, on any jacker, get a homicide
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| To take her, gotta kill me
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| That’s the real meaning of ride or die, I’m home
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| Shawty say she wanna ride with a G
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| Ride with a G, ride with a G, she wanna ride with a G
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| So I let her roll wit me, I let her roll wit me
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| So I let her roll wit me, I let her roll wit me
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| Shawty say she wanna ride with a G
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| Ride with a G, ride with a G, she wanna ride with a G
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| So I let her roll wit me, I let her roll wit me
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| So I let her roll wit me, I let her roll wit me
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| Ay, I got the dash lit digital
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| Ridin' slab critical
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| Take ya to the play pad boo, give you a physical
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| I promise not to lose control, I love the hoes
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| From the drop to the bedroom pole, I’m so cold
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| California kush, California king
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| Girl you fuckin' with a true street dream that’s gettin' cream
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| Back to this beautiful slab that I admire
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| Fresh mink, wiped down chrome on every tire
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| I’m here to take a look at your mind in no time
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| That umbrella grind just blockin' your true shine
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| Upgrade your game and leave them broke dummies
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| 760 huggin' the ground on new Asanti’s
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| Hood nigga reppin' the block, that didn’t change
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| Still let the top fall down and cut a lane
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| A G, kinda diggin' your style but love money
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| Slab King, crawlin' the turf, it’s 100
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| You see these cars is like our chicks
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| And the chicks is like our cars
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| Top off, sky showin' baby
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| Wish upon a star
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| These other lames broke you down
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| I’m just here to fix your parts
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| And if that slab ain’t for sale
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| Then I’ll forever rent yo, heart
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| Hold up, you got me stylin' when I show up
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| My partna say I’m trippin' you got mileage on your motor
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| But they don’t know the feelin'
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| People wildin' when we show up
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| Pop that truck, them neons glow
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| Them speakers poundin' like a smoker
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| I’m forever grippin' grain, I swear this love is real
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| Feel so good when you grip that wood
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| Man I love a chick hood, that’ll show that grill
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| Hit that ave' when I tip that slab
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| Take a nigga bitch fast
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| Hoe young Pro trill
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| Real SLAB riders don’t rush for the Kappa Beach
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| Real SLAB riders don’t rush for the, uh, uh
|
| The, the MLK Holiday
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| We wait and pull out, when we pull out it is a slab holiday
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| You know what I’m sayin'
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| It don’t matter when I come out, it’s a holiday then
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| Everybody comin' outside cause I’m outside
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| You understand, yeah, Don Ke, Slab 101
|
| You know they say like
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| You can’t keep too much stress on the heart
|
| There come a time when you just gotta let that shit out
|
| Yeah, look
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| Heaven knows, this world ain’t my home it’s like torture here
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| With all the wrong I committed I’m glad the lord forgives
|
| I promised I’d change, like imma started here
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| Then son up my words soon as the broad was near
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| Crazy, tweetin' bout who the fake is
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| Turn around, I’m dappin' up all them same niggas who hatin'
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| Born out a bastard, can’t name the nigga who made me
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| If he is, I hate that fact, I’m ashamed that he wouldn’t claim me
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| Fuck it, I’m thinkin' bout all my cousins in the country
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| Dawg, it seem like a minute since I done fucked with ya
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| I be on the grind, I swear to y’all I be hustlin'
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| Probably think I’m Hollywood, I know they think I don’t love em
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| Niggas in my hood, be talkin' bout I be stuntin'
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| Cause I come through in the coupe
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| With the windows down on them buttons
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| Niggas act like I don’t deserve it or somethin'
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| It’d be different if the shit wasn’t mine and I was frontin'
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| Back when I was rockin' them hand me downs from my cousin
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| Broke as shit, them same niggas was laughin', playin the dozens
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| Snappin' at my momma cause Jordans wasn’t in the budget
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| Sorry baby I was young, ain’t really know bout the struggle
|
| But all I knew was no heater, we keep it warm by the oven
|
| When it rain you can’t sleep cause that water drip in the bucket
|
| Rose out the dirt and these bitches ain’t gave me nothing |
| So you right, a nigga stuntin' I’m ridin' through yellin' fuck em
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| Fuck em, regardless I swear these niggas hate
|
| And tempers raise when these haters think your positions greater
|
| Same bitch niggas that I been knowin' since
|
| Jealous cause I’m out here puttin' food on the dinner plate
|
| You don’t ever mention my help, all the tuition paid
|
| The, commissary, the bail money, these niggas fake
|
| And shit’ll make you hate your own hood but
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| I know that’ll make mafio
|
| I miss the days when everybody would keep it real
|
| Now they tell me whatever I wanna hear
|
| And money root of the sum, I gotta pray for them
|
| P-R-O in they eyes is just an ATM
|
| Grown ass men in they mind, think I should pay for them
|
| I guess niggas think when I grind, my bread is made for them
|
| Understand I got a niece and a nephew
|
| And a dream to fly my momma to France, seeing the best view
|
| Could help a million people but if I say I can’t help you
|
| Niggas quick to say I’m fake, like your concern is so special
|
| Rest in peace my Grandpa, who I’m knowin' heaven accepts you
|
| More than Malcom, Pac, and Michael, was honored to say they met you
|
| But you took a big part of my soul the day you left
|
| You left my granny lonely, family in shambles, and we can’t get through
|
| Still pissed at the world, but I forgive you
|
| Took it out in 86' but damnit a nigga miss you
|
| My own partna stealin' that’s really fucked with my mental
|
| Tell a nigga that you got him but really they out to get you
|
| A couple thousand dollars how far you think that’ll get you
|
| Boy, Karma is a bitch and I heard that she wanna kiss you
|
| A whole lotta fuck shit, niggas tryna kill me
|
| Cause you was doing fuck shit, out here livin' filthy
|
| So now we ain’t partnas, you ain’t ever gotta speak to Pro
|
| Dumb ass nigga, never bite the hand that feed you bro
|
| Shed a lotta tears, like really I can’t believe my bro
|
| But cut the grass, nip through, the snake, trust he’ll show
|
| Never did shit but try to help him come up
|
| Backfired in my face |