| But I always blow the yellow light
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| (My nigga Lee, I think we got another one)
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| But I’m dressed in all this yellow, right?
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| But I always blow the yellow light (Skrrt)
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| But I’m dressed in all this (Hold up), ayy
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| They keep telling me to slow down (Slow down)
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| Mmm, uh, but I always blow the yellow light (Ayy)
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| Can’t let them niggas catch me lacking at the red light (Nah)
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| Like it’ll make them niggas' day if I be dead, right? |
| Huh
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| But I ain’t dying, huh, and they ain’t sliding, huh
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| And I ain’t hiding, cappin' if they say they can’t find me
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| Might commit a hate crime, huh, 'cause I hate slime, huh
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| From the baseline, up and under, do a nigga shiesty
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| Huh, ah, Money take somethin', huh, huh
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| DJ make that face, he 'bout to shake somethin', duh
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| Huh, Money make that face, he 'bout to kill somethin', duh
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| I think I’m a zombie, I don’t feel nothin', duh
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| Rose gold, back from the dead, back on his head
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| Whole lotta stacks on his head, racks on his head
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| Booby trap on that ass, I can’t catch him last
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| Boobie Miles on that ass, I can do it all
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| If it’s Friday Night Lights, pass me the ball
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| I don’t stop at red lights, won’t let 'em do me wrong
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| Nan' nigga want the smoke, tell 'em prove me wrong
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| His baby mama smell my cologne, she wanna do it raw, uh
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| Huh, big dog, huh, Big Skub
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| Huh, on 5 'nem grave, knock your shit loose, huh
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| I don’t make no diss songs, I get physical, huh
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| Make love to a bitch, block the number, leave her miserable, uh
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| Pull up, nah, I’m high on drugs, deuce in a Town Club
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| Bunch of bands and an ounce of crud, need the chronic, need the mud
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| My opps weak as fuck, they know I’ll beat 'em up
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| Dyin'-ass niggas ain’t even tough, mad at me for what?
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| 'Cause I’m that nigga, huh, I ain’t that nigga (What else?)
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| See, I’m bomfortable, whole hood on my back, nigga (Aw yeah)
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| Send them bullets at niggas, they look like they run track, nigga
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| Can’t make me get on that nigga, just tell me where you at, nigga
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| Can’t hang around me 'less you use a gun
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| Ho nigga bleedin', we the reason that he losing blood
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| My scammer get it easy, couple pieces, got the newest drugs
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| Put them bitches on the rifles, get a rocket, I’m the rudest one
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| Huh, ayy, them niggas body count ain’t like ours
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| We been scoring all year, whole team all-stars
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| Everybody shoot that bitch from a distance, from afar
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| Everybody shoot that bitch up close, real personal
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| We can shoot it any way, I’m just sayin', gang versatile
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| Huh, I still got more keys than Percival
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| Hold the chop any kind of way, it’s reversible
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| If it’s up there, it’s stuck, nigga, better check your vertical
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| They keep telling me to slow down
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| Mmm, uh, but I always blow the yellow light
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| Can’t let them niggas catch me lacking at the red light
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| Like it’ll make them niggas' day if I be dead, right? |
| Huh
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| But I ain’t dying, huh, and they ain’t sliding, huh
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| And I ain’t hiding, cappin' if they say they can’t find me
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| Might commit a hate crime, huh, 'cause I hate slime, huh
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| From the baseline, up and under, do a nigga shiesty
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| Huh, late night, huh-huh, my pay right
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| Huh, I don’t stop at gas stations, half a tank right
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| Huh, fuck the brake light, huh, play it safe, right
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| Nah, stay dangerous, get a nigga scraped, right
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| Huh, only gang, huh-huh, only squad
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| Huh, SMO 'til the day that I die
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| Every day go, nah, huh (My nigga Lee, I think we got another one)
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| Every day go by, I be ready for the turn-up
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| Huh, hit the trap, get the work from my workers, uh
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| Pick up the phone, tryna get a nigga murdered, uh
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| He talking brazy, we gon' leave him on his corner (What else?)
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| Talking brazy, we gon' leave him on his borner (Nigga, duh)
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| You with that 'til you ain’t with that
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| 'Til a nigga pull up, now your people want some get-back
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| Say you was in that 'til a nigga in that
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| Huh, spend a band, we’ll do that shit again, jack
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| Huh, say you on that, huh, 'til I’m on that
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| Huh, shoot some shit of your body that won’t grow back
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| Say you pressin', huh, 'til we press you
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| That bullshit you keep tryna do, I won’t let you
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| Skuba Steve back on that tip, mask off and shit
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| Once we on your line, them apes ain’t never getting off your shit |
| Shoot you in your eye, do it right before you crank
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| Shoot him in the eye before he saw, I got baptized in Wocky water
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| Bet I fuck somebody daughter, huh, you won’t catch me at the altar
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| Bitch, I’m married to the culture, bitch, I’m married to the streets
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| You don’t know what they did for me, they took care all my enemies
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| They ride for me, on side for me, you goddamn right they friend of me
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| You goddamn right they kin to me
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| Huh, Skilla Baby my mini-me
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| Gon' turn up, be a bigger me
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| He Southwest T, I’m Big Meech
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| On the same shit like symmetry
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| On the same shit, that’s bymmetry
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| Fuck an old bitch, now the same bitch like, «You remember me? |
| I know you do»
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| (Aw yeah)
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| My bitch say she don’t wanna fuck, huh, I know you do, huh
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| Get more money, then hurt people like I’m supposed to do
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| Driving full speed ahead, watch the motor move
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| I ain’t even hit the NOS yet, I been broke the rules
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| They keep telling me to slow down
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| Mmm, uh, but I always blow the yellow light
|
| Can’t let them niggas catch me lacking at the red light
|
| Like it’ll make them niggas' day if I be dead, right? |
| Huh (Aw yeah)
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| But I ain’t dying, huh, and they ain’t sliding, huh
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| And I ain’t hiding, cappin' if they say they can’t find me
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| Might commit a hate crime, huh, 'cause I hate slime, huh
|
| From the baseline, up and under, do a nigga shiesty
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| Ayy, aw yeah
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| Ayy, ayy
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| Oh, let’s go
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| Ayy, aw yeah |