| They should know by now, when I rap I got a reputation
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| Causin' devastation, I get down for mine
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| See Tech N9ne fucked around and signed
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| An individual that’s visibly out his mind
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| It’s hard to count the times, how many rappers I’ve
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| Massacred, Al Capone, and every day is St. Valentine’s
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| It’s Jonny Valiant, I’m the first thing that comes to mind
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| When you hit the Gwinnett County line
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| I’m on powder and Crown combined
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| I like to mix the uppers with the liquor then I switch up
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| Poppin' the Klonopins, I got me a prescription
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| Watch out for the rappers tryna plot another stick up
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| Reminisce the kids in my clique that ain’t with us anymore
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| They ain’t live to see past twenty
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| Tryna see fast money, got they ditch dug early
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| So no wonder why it’s hard to be religious
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| White boy shit, we ain’t hoppin' in a pickup
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| They depict us to be redneck
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| Let my bread stack till I’m in a Benz truck, limo tint
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| Gotta wipe a pimp down with a lint brush
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| Oh-ee, Louie
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| Symbol on my shoe, blew two Gs, too clean
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| Groupies turning up, they wanna fuck
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| And turn the bus into a nude scene, that’s routine
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| Fuck the YouTube views and your newsfeed
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| 'Cause your whole style is whack
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| You getting clout nowadays when you sound exactly like another man
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| I ain’t tryna vouch for that
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| Used to wear button-downs and slacks but now you trap
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| You strapped but you swear that you down to clash
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| 'Cause mumble rap’s in style you be trying hard to sound relaxed
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| You take words and pronounce them bad
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| To sound like you have an accent, really that’s it?
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| I never thought I’d use the word «flabbergasted»
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| It’s an exact fit to explain my reaction, like I’m yackin' in a trash bin
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| I don’t use a bunch of ad-libs to distract fans
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| I combine the real with the metaphors and bars
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| From the wheel struggling to get a deal
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| Through the valley in the hills
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| Like you tryna win the Tour de France
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| You can’t tell me I don’t kill shit
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| Turn me up with the Coupé de Ville feel with a foreign car
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| Been ten years and I’m still lit
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| Now my Colorado homies, and it’s twenty past four o’clock
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| It’s last call but I got another quart to pop
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| And I ain’t ever wore a cap and gown
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| But got mass amounts of cash to count
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| I’m rapping now for spazzing out
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| So tell 'em when they ask around
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| I get down
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| Down for mine, down for mine
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| I get down
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| Down for mine, down for mine
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| I get down
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| Down for mine, get down for mine
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| I told 'em I don’t fuck around about a thousand times
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| I show out and shine with no doubt in mind
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| I get down
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| Down for mine, down for mine
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| I get down
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| Down for mine, down for mine
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| I get down
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| Down for mine, get down for mine
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| I told 'em I don’t fuck around about a thousand times
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| I show out and shine with no doubt in mind
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| I get down
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| That’s truth that you can’t dispute
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| It’s CNT in this bitch, what a man’ll do
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| Dick Tracy, attention to
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| I’d be the same ol' me if I wore tight pants and boots
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| Is that a diss? |
| Incorrect, get an 'X' like (buzzer)
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| Ain’t no family feud, the seed planted bloomed
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| We hit Atlanta, flew to France and landed Coco Vance and broke madams and
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| pampered dudes
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| Them ugly motherfuckers smiling for the camera crew
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| I’m getting bands of loot, the broke shit discussion
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| 'Cause I finally got a check, we can stretch out money
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| Maybe you were meant to be a fitness instructor
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| Witness destruction when I represent for the misfits amongst us
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| The old heads, kids, and youngsters
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| Fuck with me you’ll be stuck on me
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| Like you had unsafe sex with an ex of Usher’s
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| Is you a bald bitch? |
| What you need a hairpiece? |
| Got the herpes?
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| Sue me, I’ma throw you down the staircase
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| You try to tell me that I broke too many barricades
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| That’s why you never hear my music on the airwaves
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| I drop a nuke on every record, that’s an air raid
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| Pull your hair weave, bitch suck and bob
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| I need to find a chick kinda like Blac Chyna
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| To give me all the checks she collect from Rob
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| You never see 'em interview me on The Breakfast Club
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| But they know me in New Zealand and Czech Repub
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| Up in Cleveland and Lincoln, Nebraska, Reno, Nevada
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| Alaska has extra love
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| Mic check like Tech, I’m a regular
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| You saw All Eyez on Me, thought you was 2Pac
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| But you a Little Richard homie wop-bop-a-loo-bop
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| You shocked that I blew up?
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| I thought that you knew
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| I get down
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| Down for mine, down for mine
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| I get down
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| Down for mine, down for mine
|
| I get down
|
| Down for mine, get down for mine
|
| I told 'em I don’t fuck around about a thousand times
|
| I show out and shine with no doubt in mind
|
| I get down
|
| Down for mine, down for mine
|
| I get down
|
| Down for mine, down for mine
|
| I get down
|
| Down for mine, get down for mine
|
| I told 'em I don’t fuck around about a thousand times
|
| I show out and shine with no doubt in mind
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| I get down |