| Blank face, blank face, blank face, blank face
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| Blank face, blank face, blank face, blank face
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| Blank face, blank face
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| I’ll trade the noise for a piece of divine
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| Uh!
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| This that «Fuck the blogs»
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| The afterbell, we hang in halls
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| Underage, smokin' weed and alcohol
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| Grandma sweeped shells out the driveway
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| One of the homies got slayed so we bang at the King parade
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| I can take you spots where gangsters walk
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| The real damus and locs, Boyz N the Hood wasn’t even close
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| Where the girls' kitten show, hit the dope and the pussy soaked
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| Now she get you for your change, Captain Save-A-Hoe, mane
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| I ain’t been right since out the cervix
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| I know a M can make it perfect
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| It came through more than the one I worship
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| You I never lie, the truth be told, the dope, it gettin' sold
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| He got the runny nose
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| Summertime, we don’t trust niggas in winter clothes
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| I swear the hood low, as the burner get rolls I follow the city codes
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| My money short
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| Missin' the days of honey oats
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| Dollar bills in mama’s coat
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| Cartoons and bubble soap
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| This be the realest shit I wrote
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| This be that ride that hunnid spoke
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| Red and blue from head to toe
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| Who needs a mothafuckin' friend?
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| You see them mothafuckin' rims
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| Met the devil in disguise
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| Look through my mothafuckin' eyes
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| Look at my eyes, look at my block
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| Look at my shit, cold
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| Bustin' these nines, true to my life
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| Word to my pen so
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| Take what you want, get what you like
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| Open that window
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| That shit raw
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| Ain’t it? |
| That shit raw
|
| Look through my mothafuckin' eyes
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| Vision impaired by the high
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| No cares on my mind
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| Couple dares, that is fine
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| This shit from 'round the back house
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| More baggies bagged and that roach
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| In granny’s plastic suede couch
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| Best play cat and that mouse
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| A minor pitchin' in major
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| Stay servin' dope but we cater
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| Take you back to my sega
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| Slammin' bones on that table
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| Runnin' errands for grams, the paramedics at Tam’s
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| Forced to grow to a man
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| Before L.A. had them Rams
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| Went to school for the bitches, where scorin' drugs was the goal
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| Lungs black as a crow, got banned from every hood store
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| My haters came for the better and money came for the loads
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| Concrete where we rose, you wasn’t built from this mold
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| Fucked up the game with many flow
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| I’ve been a loc since Henry O
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| I’m ten toes, you movie role
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| I do this shit for lifers way before
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| Jehri curls, cut Dickies and sherm smoke
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| Got so many bodies the world knows, shit
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| Don’t worry 'bout no witness, your homies go under oath
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| But our dreams were big, homie
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| The world done flipped on me, took my soul then clicked on me
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| Who needs a mothafuckin' friend?
|
| You see them mothafuckin' rims
|
| Met the devil in disguise
|
| Look through my mothafuckin' eyes
|
| Look at my eyes, look at my block
|
| Look at my shit, cold
|
| Bustin' these nines, true to my life
|
| Word to my pen so
|
| Take what you want, get what you like
|
| Open that window
|
| That shit raw
|
| Ain’t it? |
| That shit raw
|
| Look through my mothafuckin' eyes
|
| Vision impaired by the high
|
| No cares on my mind
|
| Couple dares, that is fine
|
| My picture was in full frame
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| But my vision had distort
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| My memory is okay
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| But my feelings on point
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| I could be here all day if you let me go, go, go, go
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| Oh lord!
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| You don’t know the half of what I had to hold, hold, hold, hold
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| No lord!
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| I see faces at my window
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| My patience growin' short
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| I had no one to lend on
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| That’s why that chip is so cold
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| Kinda like the cool king on my fallen bros
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| Oh lord!
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| Guess that’s my curtain call, my last go
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| Ain’t this shit what you wanted to see?
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| Ain’t this shit what you wanted to see? |