| Ayy
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| I try my hardest to keep back the pain, it just came my way
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| I gotta get back what I lost (Home run for Sosa)
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| Ayy, yeah
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| You done spent fifty with the plug on the box, ain’t that no way to pay the
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| bills
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| You done gambled all your money, super low on funds, nothing in the safe for
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| real
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| Nine out of ten homies really not your friend, watch how the fake reveal
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| You gotta watch the ones always money hungry, 'cause them the same lil' ones
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| they’ll pay to kill you
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| My phone on DND and airplane, I ain’t got no time for them people,
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| that man for everybody
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| No time for all that crying and griving 'cause I need every dollar
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| I told 'em we speak no English, that’s 'bout a dead body
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| Glock 22 that came with the titties, boy, it got the feds watching
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| Too many niggas and bitches be hating so I’d rather stay to myself, ayy
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| I roll the dope up just like a Jamaican, I think that it’s good for my health,
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| ayy
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| I got the Glizzy tucked down in my britches, don’t run up, these bullets gon'
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| melt, ayy
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| I really fucked over five hundred bitches and I think it’s all 'cause my wealth
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| Night he be kicking the doors in the trenches, you would think that he got a
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| black belt, ayy
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| I had a show all the way out in Memphis when they told me Kiko got killed, ayy
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| This ain’t no time for these hoes, fuck these bitches, I gotta go run up the
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| cheddar, ayy
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| I just be sitting back minding my business 'cause all of these niggas gon'
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| change like the weather (Ayy, ayy, ayy)
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| They telling me to explain how I’m feeling, so that’s why I wrote 'em this
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| letter, ayy
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| They came around when I went to the ceiling, but when I was down,
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| tell me where you was
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| One thousand like one hundred, a million them birds of a feather gon' flock
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| together
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| Project asking why my niggas be Crippin', you know that we post on the block
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| together
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| Put that boy in the box, dirt him with the shovel
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| Got the city on lock, ain’t nobody better, ayy
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| I’m Rollin' 60, so I use a blue flag just to clean off my Beretta
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| Tat my name on your titties, make me feel special
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| Got my foot on they neck, I can’t never let up
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| Shawty claim that she love me and don’t even know me
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| I’m tryna figure out where I met her
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| My phone on DND and airplane, I ain’t got no time for them people,
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| that mean for everybody
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| No time for all that crying and grieving 'cause I need every dollar
|
| I told 'em we speak no English, that’s 'bout a dead body
|
| Glock 22 that came with the titties, boy, it got the feds watching
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| I ain’t gon' lie
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| It be so much fake love in there, I don’t be wanting no parts of it
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| 'Cause then I be wanting to explain
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| Like, how I feel to people, but then, shit, I just sit back and notice that
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| Too many niggas and bitches be hating so I’d rather stay to myself, ayy
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| I roll the dope up just like a Jamaican, I think that it’s good for my health,
|
| ayy
|
| I got the Glizzy tucked down in my britches, don’t run up, these bullets gon'
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| melt, ayy
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| I really fucked over five hundred bitches and I think it’s all 'cause my wealth |