| To executioners, all the murderers, drug dealers, burglars
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| Interstate traffickers, gun runners, gat clappers
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| I can’t call it cousin, this currency got me buggin
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| Streets’ll thumpin, the loose rocks for jugglin
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| Shorties be smugglin, importin keys for the government
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| Other men, choose the street life to comprehend
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| Thugs and murderers, inside, power will have you turn against
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| Your whole fam, fuckin up money inside the program
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| How much could I stand, two shots to third grand
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| Ultimate crime plans, this fam blocks for grands
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| I’m tryin to make a mill, for real, so chill, let the God build
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| Reality, based on this tax free drug salary
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| Wit real mentality, bustin straight through galaxy
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| My mind rather be, lost as you never heard me
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| Flush, your black majesty, another reason of tragedy
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| These is never baggin me, Wastlanz forever be
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| Drug tech’s and felonies, so what the fuck you tellin me?
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| Overseas, this currency, I keep it real confident
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| Fuck felony cases, finger prints, names and faces
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| Get rich niggas snitch in places you escape
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| I hate, this fate that I was dealt in this game
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| That’s why I utilize, crime in my mind, to maintain
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| Caught the six fifths and coke, plus I jumped out the boat
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| Styrofoam the chrome, so the stay float
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| When the jiggs come, cock the guns, bustin back though
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| Got the calico, to shatter through their teflon and window
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| An all out war for stack, the crime king of crack
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| It’s no stoppin, till my life go black
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| When I react, empty a two clips up in his back
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| Fuckin up a g pack, trickin money on the hood rat
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| Peace to murder stack, keep these drugs format
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| Try and a, supreme my team, it be that cat that’s phat
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| Wastlanz, my fam, the grand’s you know
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| Cuz I’m soon to blow the world, big Phenom Pacino
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| Precautionary measure, endeavors to get the treasures
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| It’s all about steam cream and inferred beams
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| It seams, my 'Lanz team’ll reign supreme inside this drug thing
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| Above thing, our thug sling, my lovin queen
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| Got me up in Flush, Queens, buildin like Monopoly
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| Yaks, clocks and property, shout to streets
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| Choppin keys for prophecy, the street prophecy proceed in the year 3
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| Constantly ridin cuz solidatin enterprisin devise the scheme
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| Eyes Green straight from outta Queens
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| To seen my shinin gleam, hundred shot magazine
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| Blowin out niggas spleens, whoever intervene
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| I see my dreams, to do my thing to make them tangible
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| My fam is unmanageable, chop ya hands off and hand them to you
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| Makin moves, state to state weight sales
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| In school, cash rule, my Wastlanz fam stays true |