| Uh, yea, yea, yea
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| Let’s go niggas
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| C’mon nigga, c’mon niggaI be dippin' in tha twilight, wit gangstas
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| Smokin' weed up in my ride life
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| The same stuff, it’s still a bitch, livin' like I’m rich
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| Bang broads call me Mr. International, ghetto stars
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| I be dippin' in tha twilight, wit gangstas
|
| Smokin' weed up in my ride life
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| The same stuff, it’s still a bitch, livin' like I’m rich
|
| Bang broads call me Mr. International, ghetto starsYo' I talk like a champion,
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| walk like a champion
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| Body like a God, and I promise that Nas will hit you off
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| Flow like a gangsta, blum bum bum bum bum
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| Bustin' like dummies, so mami you come and lick it off
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| I stay right, purple haze’d outfit stay on my hip
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| Blood stay in my mouf, petron layed out
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| Tequila sunrise and five 6's, surprise bitches
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| Nas from the trenches, hot as he survivedThis is ten years, here for good,
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| rep fo' my thugs
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| Plumper than last summer, stomach streched from tha grub
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| Good livin', good women, I fuck wit straight stallions
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| Bowleg stances, go 'head handsome
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| But they all scream, my car’s lean
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| Hit up, every state, town, city wit my braveheart team
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| Pretty face, round tits and ass, stay my queen
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| Keep a burna in tha trunk, ate all fifteenWhen I be dippin' in tha twilight,
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| wit gangstas
|
| Smokin' weed up in my ride life
|
| The same stuff, it’s still a bitch, livin' like I’m rich
|
| Bang broads call me Mr. International, ghetto stars
|
| I be dippin' in tha twilight, wit gangstas
|
| Smokin' weed up in my ride life
|
| The same stuff, it’s still a bitch, livin' like I’m rich
|
| Bang broads call me Mr. International, ghetto starsYo' if you see me on MTV,
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| don’t forget
|
| I’m tha same nigga from QB
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| Sittin' on tha block, hungry and starvin'
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| Imaginin' performin' at Madison Square Garden
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| Or Radio City, in New York City
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| Bring tha whole hood wit me, gallons of henny
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| My homie got shot right befo' my eyes
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| I got shot too, but I survivedI was just a teenager, never had a pager
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| Always had flava, chasin' dat paper
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| I need dem diamonds, dem new clothes
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| Pretty hoes, dat Bently Coupe all red like a rose
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| And everybody knows, my gun goes off
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| In tha west coast, durty south, and up north
|
| Jungle tha boss, a natural born hustler
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| I despise suckas, ya punk muthafuckasWhen I be dippin' in tha twilight,
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| wit gangstas
|
| Smokin' weed up in my ride life
|
| The same stuff, it’s still a bitch, livin' like I’m rich
|
| Bang broads call me Mr. International, ghetto stars
|
| I be dippin' in tha twilight, wit gangstas
|
| Smokin' weed up in my ride life
|
| The same stuff, it’s still a bitch, livin' like I’m rich
|
| Bang broads call me Mr. International, ghetto starsNigga I’m high wit high
|
| hopes, fuck tha bullshit
|
| Stand up in front of dat, you get tha full clip
|
| I’ll beat a nigga senseless, his skin is missin', listen
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| My knockouts is six, so serious
|
| Bang wit a «b» on my chest, ya’ll niggas is bitches
|
| Ya touch me and I’m pullin' ya dress from stitches to stitchin'
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| I hate y’all niggas, stomp you out like roaches
|
| Can’t you see I’m here to get this paper just I’m suppose toI been a BraveHeart
|
| since semen, cesspool my pops schemin'
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| One thought to get up in my moms jeans and it came to this
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| It feel like a muthafucka dreamin', but I’m here
|
| Fuck anything another nigga thinkin', see dem BraveHearts
|
| Damn, those my niggas, you got drama wit 'em
|
| Sleep witcha gun unda ya fuckin' pillow
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| This is real thangs, I know shit feels strange
|
| How dem QB niggas do thangs, check dis shitWhen I be dippin' in tha twilight,
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| wit gangstas
|
| Smokin' weed up in my ride life
|
| The same stuff, it’s still a bitch, livin' like I’m rich
|
| Bang broads call me Mr. International, ghetto stars
|
| I be dippin' in tha twilight, wit gangstas
|
| Smokin' weed up in my ride life
|
| The same stuff, it’s still a bitch, livin' like I’m rich
|
| Bang broads call me Mr. International, ghetto stars |