| Run that back, Khi
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| Hold on, it’s October 10th, my niggas get out the bar, nigga
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| Ain’t no more free dub, ain’t no more free lil' head, nigga
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| Ayy, ayy, gang, ayy, ayy, baow, baow, baow, baow
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| Hold on, gang, ayy, gang, hold on, ayy
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| Hold on, hold on, hold on
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| Okay, cool, we finna get him, gang
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| He flexin' too hard, we gon' flip him
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| Keep throwin' C’s and thinkin' he crippin'
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| Pull out the Glock with it down like a nipple
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| Try to come 'round, then get shot, it’s that simple
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| Whole lotta facts in my songs when you hear 'em
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| They don’t want no smoke, they just want me to fear 'em
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| Slide the door back on that minivan
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| Push a button and we spin like a ceiling fan
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| You ain’t tryna get active, quit bitchin' in
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| Michael Jackson this ratchet, this Semi dance
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| We hit this strap with a tool or piece
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| Like, «Fah, fah, fah, fah,"this gang shit
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| I bring the backend like I’m Saint Nick
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| We gon' get on his ass, make him change cliques
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| He don’t think with his head, get his brain split
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| On the road, no caboose on some train shit
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| Lotta ice on my wrist like I sprained it
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| Treat the beef like a car, we just crank shit
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| I like Internet beefin' and lame shit
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| That’s the quickest way we do the foolery
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| She gon' fuck 'cause I’m fly with my jewelry
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| Beat his ass, now them hoes talkin' suin' me
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| Hold on, hold on, hold on, gang
|
| Okay, cool, we finna get him, gang
|
| He flexin' too hard, we gon' flip him
|
| Keep throwin' C’s and thinkin' he crippin'
|
| Pull out the Glock with it down like a nipple
|
| Try to come 'round, then get shot, it’s that simple
|
| Whole lotta facts in my songs when you hear 'em
|
| They don’t want no smoke, they just want me to fear 'em
|
| Hold on, baow, baow, okay, cool
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| He want some smoke, jump in his pool, I bet he won’t float
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| She givin' noggin, she finna choke
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| Diamonds, they water, they came with some salt
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| Geek in my city, get pulled like a rope
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| Play with the gang, you gon' get what you want
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| She popped the Perc' and the dick on the floor
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| I hit the road with them steppers with me
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| With a whole lot of hoes and Berettas with me
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| Got a Glock .45, the big fellow with me
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| On these heels like I got Cinderella with me
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| We done went to his show, it was hella empty
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| They don’t play 'cause they know we get hella busy
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| If you shoot, I’m hit, boy, you better hear me
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| I got aim, I won’t miss with this yellow Glizzy
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| Hold on, hold on, hold on, gang
|
| Okay, cool, we finna get him, gang
|
| He flexin' too hard, we gon' flip him
|
| Keep throwin' C’s and thinkin' he crippin'
|
| Pull out the Glock with it down like a nipple
|
| Try to come 'round, then get shot, it’s that simple
|
| Whole lotta facts in my songs when you hear 'em
|
| They don’t want no smoke, they just want me to fear 'em
|
| Okay, cool, we finna get him
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| Uh, play 'round with us and we zip him
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| Uh, they know I’m official
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| Uh, aim at the slime on the pimple
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| Uh, she give me face, dimple
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| Uh, hop out the sauna like I’m Emma
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| Play with the gang and get popped like a pimple, hold up, gang |