| Molly, stylin'
|
| Groupies, pilin'
|
| Nirvana, shotti'
|
| They dead, flies
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| Diamonds, dancin'
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| Marilyn Manson
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| Unzip my, pants
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| Head, bangin'
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| Chainswang, chainswang
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| Nigga chainswang
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| Chainswang. |
| free my nigga out that chain gang
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| Chainswang, bling bling nigga bling bling
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| Chainswang, chainswang nigga chainswang
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| I’m drinkin' lean, that PRO, that methazine
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| I’m a pro, she on my team, know what I mean
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| Shit like Chris, that VVS, Wayerboyz my ring
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| And the Phone, put diamonds on, hotline bling
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| I attack, hop on the back, Kawasaki jack
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| It’s all black, like we da' Klan, but it ain’t that
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| It’s the best, the well dressed, goonin' on the 'test
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| Still play, wit' yo drank, gatorade bitch
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| I brought some hoes to my house and before we got to ménag'in
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| I had to be a good host but bitch I went Miley Cyrus
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| What’s good, they flockin' (?) screwdriver
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| I might just build her a casa, seen all that wood in her mouth
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| (sure, sure, sure)
|
| And all a young nigga ever wanted was the chain
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| And all these old bitches want me back for the fame
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| And nigga I degrade her and she’ll think it’s okay
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| Cause she wanna be famous and fuck me off my name
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| And I shot the club up, on a Tuesday nigga
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| Got people in my life tryna' use me nigga
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| I used to put all my trust in you bae, remember?
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| Now I make a Starscream, fuck her off the transformer, bitch
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| (Zaytoven)
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| (Oh this the end? Well that’s it huh, PHONE!) |