| From the day you’re born… till the day you die
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| If you’re one of the poor ones, you just gotta work hard, you know what I mean
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| A lot of pain, lot of sorrow, blood, sweat and tears
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| I’m like a one man crew, a one man clique
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| Iceberg Slick, sick like horror flicks
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| I put a burner on a heat when I (?) the street
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| Nickel-plated poetry mad deep
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| The intellect interacts with raps
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| Cartel rocks well, baby, I’m strapped with gats
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| Yo son, had to bounce cos the block was scorchin
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| I’m camouflaged down like a Soldier Of Fortune
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| I paralyze your mindstate
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| Then crush your egg frame and watch your whole body break
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| Look at yo' broke-ass clique on the corner
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| Talkin shit about a nigga cos he does what he wanna
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| Cousin, pull the record back counter-clock wise
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| K-Def got the spliff lit spinnin with the red eye
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| That’s from all the lye he smoke
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| Yo loc, time to go, Larry-O slit your throat
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| Just for runnin your mouth you gots to fall
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| Chill dog, no need to speedball
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| I got everything under control
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| Got the coke and a smoke, and we about to roll |
| When the Real Live arrive y’all motherfuckers slept and slipped
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| They slept on the architect of wreck
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| The nigga with the lucci, coochie, clothes
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| The sniper with a rifle fuckin up foes
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| Seriously, not deliriously
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| Son, you could be missin mysteriously
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| Guns run through my crew like animals in a zoo
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| Flippin coats, sippin Mot with nothing to do
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| Karate niggaz, crushin niggaz for big figures
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| They pay the price to wear ice
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| You rollin with scared dice
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| The streets got no room, saturated with tools
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| I been a major player since niggaz were smokin Kools
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| A mad felon breakin bread where murderers dwel |