| Cio
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| Ooh, ooh
|
| Ooh-ooh, ooh
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| Move from the cave to the beach front
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| Still tryna fly P’s out
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| Thankin' God, I took the G route
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| They respect it, we don’t need clout
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| Had to grind to get my tee out
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| Quin the MVP now, these niggas ain’t 'bout what we 'bout
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| When it’s cold, we bring the heat out
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| They killin' us with our hands up
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| We just tryna run our bands up
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| And I was taught to man up
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| Knock 'em down if niggas stand up
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| But they didn’t understand us
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| It’s nothin' they cand hand us
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| Lotta snakes get in the way
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| 'Cause niggas hatin' that I ain’t regular, I’m fed up
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| I be kidnappin' cabbage, duffle baggin' it up
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| I got the Mossberg in the crib, could fill up gas with this punk (We on)
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| I pulled up, and they like, «Sir, please, put the bags in the trunk»
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| (Let's do it)
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| I said, «The engine in the back, let’s put the bags in the front (Come on)
|
| See we was out there in the streets, the paper slow with the job
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| Drop the roof upon the Beam, I feel closer to God
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| I got a hoe but she like bitches, we might have a ménage
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| And I roll with the squad like fisherman, I’m exposin' the road
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| I shot the ground but never spoke it (We on)
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| It’s my time and niggas know it (I promise)
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| Niggas propably think I’m coachin', how these plays get put in motion (We gone)
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| I can’t help but I was chosen
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| We ain’t movin' off emotion (At all)
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| All these diamonds got me frozen
|
| Now I’m ballin' like DeRozan
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| I be feelin' like I’m Pac or like I’m Big or somethin'
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| Maybe even Snoop, I really smoked more dope than Wiz or somethin'
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| Call me Dr. Phil, a couple bills to take his kids
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| I just play dumb, I’m numb but still act like I’m feelin' somethin', uh
|
| Move from the cave to the beach front
|
| Still tryna fly P’s out
|
| Thankin' God, I took the G route
|
| They respect it, we don’t need clout
|
| Had to grind to get my tee out
|
| Quin the MVP now, these niggas ain’t 'bout what we 'bout
|
| When it’s cold, we bring the heat out
|
| They killin' us with our hands up
|
| We just tryna run our bands up
|
| And I was taught to man up
|
| Knock 'em down if niggas stand up
|
| But they didn’t understand us
|
| It’s nothin' they cand hand us
|
| Lotta snakes get in the way
|
| 'Cause niggas hatin' that I ain’t regular, I’m fed up
|
| Told you I’ma hold you down
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| Make the suckas tone it down
|
| Ain’t no more lil' bracelets on our wrists, we rockin' Rollies now
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| Gotta keep that pole around, this joker ran me forty thou', it’s nothin' though
|
| Forgis with the buttons on 'em
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| Know we finna get up on 'em
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| Gorilla that’s on everythang, I’m tryna drop this hunnid on 'em
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| Opposition dressin' up, 'cause we just scored a bucket on 'em
|
| Fuck 'em homie, bitch get on my nerves and I’ma fuck her homie
|
| Niggas in the peen speakin' down, 'cause I nothin' for 'em
|
| Lil' bro went down for that lil' homie, bitch I love you for it
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| Heard you got like thirty K to spend, bitch I’ma plug you for it
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| G-O-D, long as I’m in power, baby, we gon' eat
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| Everybody in my squad just ballin', nigga three on three
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| Forever in my favor if you fall off, you can lean on me
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| Got an altercation and it’s gangsta, come get geeked for me
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| I got you dawg
|
| Every trip I took, you know they dropped me off, I knocked it off
|
| If you ain’t 'bout NFN, nigga knock it off
|
| Move from the cave to the beach front
|
| Still tryna fly P’s out
|
| Thankin' God, I took the G route
|
| They respect it, we don’t need clout
|
| Had to grind to get my tee out
|
| Quin the MVP now, these niggas ain’t 'bout what we 'bout
|
| When it’s cold, we bring the heat out
|
| They killin' us with our hands up
|
| We just tryna run our bands up
|
| And I was taught to man up
|
| Knock 'em down if niggas stand up
|
| But they didn’t understand us
|
| It’s nothin' they cand hand us
|
| Lotta snakes get in the way
|
| 'Cause niggas hatin' that I ain’t regular, I’m fed up
|
| No, no
|
| No, no
|
| No-no
|
| No-no
|
| I’m fed up, no, no
|
| No, no
|
| Hmm, hmm |