| Ah, what the fuck, vintage 'Lo letterman, RL veteran
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| Move the work out of Edison with my brethren
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| Hit the mapquest, fucks a rap check
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| I move the pawns on the board
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| Divert attention from the queen to the lords
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| 20 years a veteran back of the fort
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| Drugs galore, getting 'Lo from the loft
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| Flip out the chopper then I’m swimming a shore
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| Meet the connect on the beach
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| Cop the coco with the sand in my sneaks
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| Brief case exchange for the reserve notes
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| Then pulled off in the surge boat
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| The tides is rough, diamond on the pinky is plush
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| Surround my feet with them cigarettes butts, you know
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| Bad habit, skin the rabbit, medium well is how I have it
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| Truffle mac with the carrots, straight classic
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| No static on the craftmatic, making magic
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| That’s how it happened
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| The plan was perfect, you shoulda heard it
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| I zip lined right through the curtains
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| Tuck and roll into the corridor
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| Then caught the vase before it hit the floor
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| I snapped his neck at the drawing board
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| Gather the prints, plant the bomb escape through the vent
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| Parasail off the roof into the whip with the tints
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| Then pulled off like a renegade
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| Not to mention it was father’s day
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| The sky was marmalade
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| Toss 'em the chair, dropkick while it’s still in the air
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| Elbow drop to the retina, now he vision impaired
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| Crime scene at the Bellagio
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| The Cop was pussy but he stocky though
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| I faked him out with the stop and go
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| I broke his ankle, got his sock exposed
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| He tried to style, look how I got him though
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| Spin move, hurdle over a family of five
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| Ass plop on the railing of the stairs and I slide
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| Land on a skateboard, noseslide, on top of the grey Ford
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| Somersault into your sunroof, pass you a blunt, already lit
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| Take this left here on fifth, hop out at the light
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| And slide off with my bitch, five percent on the tint
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| On the strip smoking Dank Sinatra, she had a gangsta father
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| I make his daughter lick my balls as I load the chopper
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| In the Heisman posture, wash the Polo boxers
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| All I do is conquer
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| The plan was perfect, you shoulda heard it
|
| I zip lined right through the curtains
|
| Tuck and roll into the corridor
|
| Then caught the vase before it hit the floor
|
| I snapped his neck at the drawing board
|
| Gather the prints, plant the bomb escape through the vent
|
| Parasail off the roof into the whip with the tints
|
| Then pulled off like a renegade
|
| Not to mention it was father’s day
|
| The sky was marmalade |