| Aim for the head, when you see him, go get him nigga
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| Aim for the head, when you see him, go get him nigga
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| Aim for the head, when you see him, go get him nigga
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| Aim for the head, when you see him, go get him nigga
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| Aim for the head, when you see him, go get him nigga
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| Aim for the head, when you see him, go get him nigga
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| Let them lames know you ain’t playin with 'em
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| Shit real, I know how baggin a whole brick feel
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| Big deal, hit the garage and switch wheels
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| My chicks real, with the menage and tip drills
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| Give me a massage, then show me how them lips feel
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| I’m shinin cause I’m clinin on the strip still
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| And I grip steel, still keep the clip steel
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| Everything I spit real, everything I spit ill
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| Everything spit sick, for real
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| When shit switch, ain’t shit changed
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| Like Rick James, I’m rich bitch
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| Get change, big chain and wrist gliss
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| I’m with game, I’mma make cake like this quick
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| My album went gold in a month, that was a quick flip
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| Don’t say shit bitch, cause niggas with the lip bit
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| Ain’t one in the gun, 'till it go click click
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| Then I’m gon’switch clips and squeeze like toothpaste
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| Palm over my forearm so I could shoot straight
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| Aim for the head, when you see him, go get him nigga
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| Aim for the head, when you see him, go get him nigga
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| Aim for the head, when you see him, go get him nigga
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| Let them lames know you ain’t playin with 'em
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| My objective is to live lavish, rip mad kids
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| Jin stand out like Swiss ad libs
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| Compared to me, your shit’s average, no matter how you come
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| Should’ve been spit on volume one, tell your corner it’s time
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| Throw in the towel, you done
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| Call up Jimmy, Kevin Lyles, whoever you want
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| It’s a wrap, your career can not be saved
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| Fuck makin a comeback, you ain’t Flavor Flav
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| Before my album dropped, I rocked show for G’s
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| Blowin trees, while I’m tourin overseas
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| Flew to PR, won a quick fifty G’s
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| And I’m still poppin up on Smack DVD’s
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| Ain’t got no platinum plaques for records sold
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| But if eatin rappers was sales, I’m seven times gold
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| Bout to blow, get set for detonation
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| Speakin on behalf of the next generation
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| Aim for the head, when you see him, go get him nigga
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| Aim for the head, when you see him, go get him nigga
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| Aim for the head, when you see him, go get him nigga
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| Let them lames know you ain’t playin with 'em
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| No matter what they spit, I still ain’t convinced
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| Not at all, your brains over the window, make it look like you got red tints
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| Hope your GT got a bulletproof F-R-O-N-T
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| Pop with them slugs and give a fuck about your Bentley
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| You a punk and I’m a boss boy
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| It’s the U Cheeks and I ain’t talkin bout that nigga from the Lost Boys
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| The barrel was too big, you had to see the fall
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| You had to see that havin it all was just a casualty of war
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| I got keys like a cord when I’m swingin a sword
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| I could bring you the law, got them things on the fog
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| We the best and I ain’t got to spit a punchline
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| Cause I do situps all over the track when it’s crunchtime
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| Fuck this rap shit, I’ve been realer, you got thin scrilla
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| I’ll put this machette through the side of your chin chilla
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| Black hoodie with the matchin fitted
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| Don’t come up short lil' man, we even clappin midgets
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| Aim for the head, when you see him, go get him nigga
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| Aim for the head, when you see him, go get him nigga
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| Aim for the head, when you see him, go get him nigga
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| Let them lames know you ain’t playin with 'em (2X) |