| Somebody stole my mojo! |
| Yo, once again.
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| Soopaman Luva flyin through the fuckin sky
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| I’m lookin for my mojo, I’m fried chinky-eyed
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| My cape is still tore up, but I make a lil' money
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| I’m like Ace Ventura, duckin my landlord
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| The land of the poor, where I handle my biz
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| I got a weed spot on the block Hannibal live
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| Pokemon on the pipe, Rudolph the deer Red-Nose
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| glow in the night, when his nose gettin right
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| I pimp Snow and Vanna White on the hoe stroll
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| Dr. Ruth on E, sippin Old Gold
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| Mr. T on crack, mohawk cornrow
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| In South Park with the Chef, in the stolen Ford
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| I’m lookin for my mojo, where it at?
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| Got a APB on it dawg, where it at?
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| I ran into Cita, from BET
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| She said, «;Man is a nigga, that’s fast on the trigger
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| I thought he was you, when we had the party for two
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| My girlfriend said the same, majority rules»;
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| Damn! |
| Who takin my women?
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| Who takin my chickens around Thanksgiving? |
| Now that’s pimpin!
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| Called my man Meth and Bishop Don Juan
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| He smokin a blunt, other sippin Sean Don
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| He said it ain’t the game, but how you play it
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| So I can’t hate the game, so I’m dyin to play it
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| Now I’m back in the air, ready to put my smack down
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| I’m searchin for the impostor to pat down
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| I’m urgin to put the glock up and clap rounds
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| It’s curtains like Jimmy Hoffa, he not found
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| So ride on me, try homey
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| Your plan’ll fail like the Acme Kit from Coyote |