| Give a nigga leg room, that’s what I said to him
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| Recognize this face, we do the peace sign to 'em
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| Niggas standing and whispering, I’m like «fuck what they talking»
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| Stay cool, clutch guns while I’m walking
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| Hope they stop and duck while I’m sparking
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| Introduce their mom to a homicide sergeant
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| Flaming your apartment, slug through your carpet
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| Two bricks of scale, top shelf in your closet
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| You ratting on the cartel which was nonsense
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| A code of silence, I feel a bitch should know
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| If you open your mouth I feel a bitch should go
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| Hit the quick vote, okay, slit your throat
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| Make sure here she’s not fit to flow
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| This the vote, cool, nigga
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| My fellas, this ain’t something that your bitch should know
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| If they asking about me, hey, I kick the flow
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| It’s hit and go, hit the do', hit the dough
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| Hit the dro, get some mo'
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| Flip a bird, but I gotta spit some mo'
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| Sip some Mo' in the 8−4, yo, bitch, lay low
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| Any debts I pay fo', spray fo'
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| Satisfying the mix with the yayo
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| And I was locked up on the 8th flo'
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| I’m walking out the house while it’s bright and early
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| Just hung up the phone, is ready to serve me
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| Gotta meet 'em by the dock, see, I buy the boatload
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| Don’t trust no niggas, but my vatos loco
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| When you’re me pistols are rarely needed
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| With these prices I’m strictly business and I mean it
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| Seven gram a block, I’m moving seventy in seven days
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| Got seven distributes in seven different states
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| We money mates, we never break the
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| We get your tongue froze from that uncut taste
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| We millionaire thugs making exchanges in sway lucks
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| Poke us in on distribution with cassettes and drugs
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| Never ever gunplay, that’s for the broke, I let my mouth teach
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| Walking with a two point three in the bag South Beach
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| Making deals, spending expensive wheels for thrills
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| Counting money so late, man, you gotta pop a pill
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| Receiving money and load, copping kilos from boats
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| Before this, you know our steelo was strictly cutting
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| Extortion involving bloody ransom notes
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| Now it’s kingpin folks and hundred pound cocaine quotes
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| It’s a bird bath, we move a hundred a week
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| The player price which can never be beat
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| Not by a nigga on these city streets
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| Trying to push a two gram just to get on his feet
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| This is a bath of birds served by
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| Prices you never heard, yeah, my flake is nice
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| So what I’m young and I keep the caine?
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| If you come up short that’s a bullet to the brain
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| I could break down a brick
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| Never *snorting noises* even though I stay around the shit
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| Spray around some shit, bound to get surround your clique
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| You was looking for respect, but you found a clip
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| From the sound, shit, the fo' pound found your rib
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| Have to wet your crib so I can drown your kids
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| My nigga Jabar who down on a bid
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| Copped this bitch a Benz to get around for the kids
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| Y’all fake hustlers, busters, I’ll cut ya
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| You signing to who? |
| So fuck ya
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| Musher when I clutch the bitch boy gutter
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| Box cutter, move with every word you utter
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| A bird bathtub, you cats will puff herb slaps
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| By 5 pm I’ve been in my third
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| Serving crabs, elevated to birds
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| Calimate the first, celebrated then splurged
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| On iceberg and slow, invite birds
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| More than nine birds, you saying the right words
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| My sight blurred with teflon light
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| Twenty karat ice work, Prada shoes, nice shirt
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| Still know it’s a pill strapped, cock back, kill tracks
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| Steel bats, peel windshields back for that crack
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| Still rap, block niggas feel that, yeah yeah, feel that |