| Convict
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| Up Front, yeah
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| Convikt Muzik
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| Ross, Triple C’s
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| If you ever cross that line
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| I guarantee you there’ll be nothin' to save ya
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| I got a whole bunch of gorillas
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| Ready to pull the trigga
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| And we all for that paper
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| Comin' from a life of crime
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| Tryna be on my best behavior
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| You see my rep’s gettin' bigger
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| But still that same ***
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| Bustin' shots at them haters
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| But only if you cross that line
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| I was birthed in the ***
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| But what made it worse, every first is a packed house
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| Little brother knowin' life illegal
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| No toys, just playin' wit pipes and needles
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| I’m gon' find knights and regals
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| 5000 on the paint just so life will see ya
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| Green cards for the free lunch
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| Now his green cards scream larger than seats crush
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| Big *** for the other side
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| Try me I’ma teach his momma homicide
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| I wanna see his momma eyes
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| I done cried 20 years now I’m runnin' dry
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| If you ever cross that line
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| I guarantee you there’ll be nothin' to save ya
|
| I got a whole bunch of gorillas
|
| Ready to pull the trigga
|
| And we all for that paper
|
| Comin' from a life of crime
|
| Tryna be on my best behavior
|
| You see my rep’s gettin' bigger
|
| But still that same ***
|
| Bustin' shots at them haters
|
| But only if you cross that line
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| Don’t cross that line
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| Hopin' that you don’t cross that line
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| Don’t cross that line
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| Baby, don’t cross that line
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| When I’m low on funds, I’ma load up
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| Slap ya in the head I’ma open one
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| African in bed, she just hope I’m done
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| See the voodoo priest, then the *** gon' come
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| Open up a drum, I’m eatin' Oprah crumbs
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| Got poor credit, got *** debit
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| Walk in the 40−40, I’ma score, bet it
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| Four tennis chains ***, I’m progetic
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| But the 4 pellets will getcha prosthetics
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| If you don’t get it, just don’t let it
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| A life sentence is a light sentence
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| All my homies got 'em, they just like business
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| If you ever cross that line
|
| I guarantee you there’ll be nothin' to save ya
|
| I got a whole bunch of gorillas
|
| Ready to pull the trigga
|
| And we all for that paper
|
| Comin' from a life of crime
|
| Tryna be on my best behavior
|
| You see my rep’s gettin' bigger
|
| But still that same ***
|
| Bustin' shots at them haters
|
| But only if you cross that line
|
| Don’t cross that line
|
| Hopin' that you don’t cross that line
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| Don’t cross that line
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| Baby, don’t cross that line
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| Don’t push me, I ain’t ***
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| You 'Would be killas', that is 'Could be'
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| The last minute of your last breath
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| I’m the last entrance right before your last step
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| Shot a *** papa, my block gotta
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| Cross the line, pay the fine, cop dollar
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| No matter you’re age, creed or color
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| Can’t cut it, stay choppin' through the butter
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| Critics wonder will I last long
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| Even though I showed my *** on my last song
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| I gets my mash on, no mask on
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| Cross Ross, baby, it’ll be a sad song
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| If you ever cross that line
|
| I guarantee you there’ll be nothin' to save ya
|
| I got a whole bunch of gorillas
|
| Ready to pull the trigga
|
| And we all for that paper
|
| Comin' from a life of crime
|
| Tryna be on my best behavior
|
| You see my rep’s gettin' bigger
|
| But still that same ***
|
| Bustin' shots at them haters
|
| But only if you cross that line
|
| Don’t cross that line
|
| Hopin' that you don’t cross that line
|
| Don’t cross that line
|
| Baby, don’t cross that line |