| Oh my God da Chevy a monsta,
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| I wanna thank the dope game for being my sponsors,
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| Cocaine white dope boy sneakers,
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| You wanna learn how to cook this dope I’m a teach ya!
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| Oh my God, The Chevy a monsta,
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| Freddy Cougar red the paint job will haunt cha'
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| Niggas scared like it’s Friday the 13,
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| Ridin in my Chevy up on Nightmare and Elm Street.
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| Shidd! |
| Seven figures for the neck piece.
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| You like this? |
| Wait until I get my neck piece.
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| Dope boy sneakers, dopeboy features,
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| You wanna learn how to cook this I can teach ya.
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| Chevy pushin' 500 horses to beat cha.
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| Pussy look like money bitch I’ll probably eat cha.
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| Sellin crack, show me where the kitchen at,
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| Let me make my money back, nigga I’m a tripple dat!
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| I killem with da ride like Marilyn Manson,
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| Trunk beatin' hard I bet the devil is dancin.
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| I see 'em glancin' my pockets lookin' real chubby,
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| They came to my momma house lookin' for the hard,
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| But I ain’t wanna sell dope please for give me Lord.
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| The crack rocked up, The bricks blocked up.
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| Everythang will be fine unless they stop us,
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| My Uncle Mane sayin' prayers from a prison cell.
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| 20 years cause they caught 'em tryna make a sale.
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| I give 'em hell, Nigga mother fuck a hater.
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| Now I’m a say this shit again let’s go get this paper.
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| Trunk full of white on the intersate,
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| Nigga I’m eatin' like these streets is my dinner plate.
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| And all I need is a spoon,
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| A pyrex jar and some elbow room.
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| Now I got the hos in the 'Ham,
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| I ain’t playin bout this paper I’ll put some holes in ya ass.
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| Look, my weed jumpin out the blunt,
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| Cause the blunt in my car feel like it’s jumpin out the trunk.
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| Blood diamonds in my neck-a-lace.
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| Got the hos lookin possessed, I’m the exorcist.
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| Bitch say hi to the bad guy.
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| That’s why all them hos point when I pass by. |