| Man, what’s up with these niggas out here
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| Mad at us 'cause we on top
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| I love to see niggas gettin' money
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| Better get it while the gettin' is good
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| Get it while you can, man
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| And stop hatin' me, fuckin' with my shit 'cause I got more hustle than you
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| Get yours, get yours baby
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| I’m seeing millions, niggas don’t understand
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| Know what? |
| I’m makin' moves, puttin' cash behind plans
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| To blow up, will he style like this
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| Everyday I parlay, sip Henny and Tanqueray
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| Stay in the mix like Alizé
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| V.I.P., my shit parked valet
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| On the prowl again to get honeys familiar with the smile again
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| Some try to assault Dre, its still cavi
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| I’m eatin' steak while they struggle to break the slave mentality
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| I givin' livin' definition long as my hearts tickin'
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| I fought and made the world listen
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| Whatever fly Dr. Dre invented
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| Turn on the box and let my son watch these studio clowns on 60 inches
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| I push a rover, shit platinum before the sessions over
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| Rap master with the Houston heat holder
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| These playas best to get they shit in check
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| 'Cause when I get my hustle on ain’t no playin' with a full deck
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| Lord please, murda my enemies (Yeah)
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| Burn em at a thousand degrees
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| And lord please let me make mo cheese
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| 'Cause I ain’t quite ready to leave (No)
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| Lord please, murda my enemies (Yeah)
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| Burn em at a thousand degrees
|
| And lord please let me make mo cheese
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| 'Cause I ain’t quite ready to leave (No)
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| Buck the whole world
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| Meant that, gotta stay strapped
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| 'Cause 99.9 a niggas, carry they gats
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| Super fist fightin' shit might come down to dyin'
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| When the time comes down for the tryin' I got nine
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| Reasons why niggas shouldn’t step in my face
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| With the nonsense, 'cause I’m always heated and you can taste this
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| Audi little something out the seams a my trousers
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| With no hesitation I got a team to come clown ya
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| I down ya, so let your people know what they face
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| With the type of individual that’ll bomb a sub-station
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| Kaboom! |
| and everybody dies outside
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| There ain’t no escapin' the Reaper so don’t try
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| Go ahead, close ya eyes, who the next to step?
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| Face down, hit, bleedin' on the steps a death
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| Check yo self, you just been invaded by true soldiers
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| December 31st, '96 (the game is over)
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| Lord please, murda my enemies (Yeah)
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| Burn em at a thousand degrees
|
| And lord please let me make mo cheese
|
| 'Cause I ain’t quite ready to leave (No)
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| Lord please, murda my enemies (Yeah)
|
| Burn em at a thousand degrees
|
| And lord please let me make mo cheese
|
| 'Cause I ain’t quite ready to leave (No)
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| (I've got all my life to live, plus with all my love to give)
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| Smokin' weed I never trail, I lead
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| Spendin' dough, tripped the cost of a ride like it was pocket money, Gs
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| But these are the things real playas do
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| Talkin' shit is real things that the hatas do
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| I’m namin' you
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| Shit’s thick, its time to run for shelter
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| I kept the word, things could happen to marks like it was Helter Skelter
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| (Dear diary, I’m runnin' outta pages
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| Fadin', in and out, takin' purple hazes
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| The dazes, Revelations in the last stages
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| Red skies institute, the silent horns playin'
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| I’m prayin' with tears in my eyes
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| 'Cause I’m tryin' to make it into eternal peace without dyin'
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| But they eyein' my bank account with beams on my rover
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| The killa failed to launch his attack)
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| The game is over
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| Lord please, murda my enemies (Yeah)
|
| Burn em at a thousand degrees
|
| And lord please let me make mo cheese
|
| 'Cause I ain’t quite ready to leave (No)
|
| Lord please, murda my enemies (Yeah)
|
| Burn em at a thousand degrees
|
| And lord please let me make mo cheese
|
| 'Cause I ain’t quite ready to leave (No) |