| Fresh off the jet from just fuckin with Puff
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| I’m feelin like the best, nobody — bring it back
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| Fresh off the jet from just fuckin with Puff
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| I’m feelin like the best, nobody fuckin with us
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| We done turned to a bygone don crew
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| We got the semi Kimora like Djimon Hounsou
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| A lifetime criminal, live by a code we call shush
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| Fireman ladder flow, look at it, my bar is up
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| As you can see I’m a beast on the track
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| I’m even worse, I’m the hearse with the reef on the back
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| I’m like the gun at the race, son you only get one shot
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| My album is the finish line, here’s where your run stops
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| 'bout to go fishin with a clip that’s extended
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| Because your momma got a glass eye with a fish in it
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| I-I think my, niggas is soldiers
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| I-I think my, bitches is gangstas
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| I-I think my, niggas is soldiers
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| I-I think my, I-I think (HUT!)
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| I get money, I get bitches, I get bored or — bring it back
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| I get bitches, I get money, no specific order
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| Filthy hit recorder, wipe or Ricky mixed with Ricky Porter
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| Butchie Jones mixed with Mr. Combs with the Tookie aura
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| I’m a muh’fucker, no really I fuck mothers
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| I chug bottles and pass out on they La-Z-Boy
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| She try to leave them lil' niglets with me? |
| Shit
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| I treat 'em all like I’m Snoop Dogg in «Baby Boy»
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| Leave me alone, I’m Hancock
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| Liquor sto' close I’m swoopin 'round hittin the second-hand spot
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| I don’t fuck with no ho unless she a dancer
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| There’s no position, drug or liquor she can’t try
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| I’m Cancer, me versus them is a landslide
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| If your face is fly, and your body is decent
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| This your inauguration the same time your impeachment
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| I got a lotta anger, I was hot before your first shit
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| Not your album, but before your momma potty trained ya
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| I-I think my, niggas is soldiers
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| I-I think my, bitches is gangstas
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| I-I think my, niggas is soldiers
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| I-I think my, I-I think (HUT!)
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| Where my soldiers attack, it’s a wrap, hold up
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| When my soldiers attack, it’s a wrap
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| One clap’ll lay you unconscious, bullets alpha-mega slap
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| Cock grenade here, think we scared? |
| No way
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| Set your ass up like the cops did O. J
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| Fo' spray his body make his chest explode
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| The barrel on the shotty wide as KRS’s nose, partner
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| Buck-shot ya, rap like a automatic gun
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| Lungs stoppin means you can’t breathe proper
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| Yeah, they like I’m on some other shit
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| Whole clique hold heat like a oven mitt
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| To fuck with this you want me on wax
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| So I’mma tax you lil' local rappers worse than the government
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| Bastard, the closest you niggas been
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| To a shotgun is in the car front seat passenger
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| How 'bout you take a trip in the trunk?
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| Ride to the pastor for a casket to hold ya, it’s over!
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| I-I think my, niggas is soldiers
|
| I-I think my, bitches is gangstas
|
| I-I think my, niggas is soldiers
|
| I-I think my, I-I think (HUT!)
|
| I-I think my, niggas is soldiers
|
| I-I think my, bitches is gangstas
|
| I-I think my, niggas is soldiers
|
| I-I think my, I-I think (HUT!) |