| I was born a rapper’s son from Atlanta
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| Pimping hoes when I was five years old
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| We had plenty of Cristal and a Bentley
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| Cause that’s just how we always like to roll
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| We didn’t mind, showing off our Bling, Bling
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| Our golden teeth and our Cadillac Escalade
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| Bitches shake their booty when they past by me
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| And as I smoke my Cuban Tree I’ve got it made
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| I’m living fat and I’m living large
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| Throwing leg in my Bentley car
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| And my P.O. |
| said that I won’t get far
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| Being the Son, Of a Rap Star
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| Chillin' at the club with my homies
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| Sippin' on gin and juice when my Boo walks past
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| You better step on off and not be frontin'
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| Or else I’ll bust a cap off in your ass
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| I’m my babies Daddy and his a’Mama
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| Don’t ask me cause that’s all you need to know
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| His pajamas are made by Gucci and Versace
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| Cause that’s just how we always like to roll
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| I’m living fat and I’m living large
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| Throwing leg in my Bentley car
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| And my P.O. |
| said that I won’t get far
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| Being the Son, Of a Rap Star
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| Being the son |