| 23 forever
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| OG forever
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| YMWRMF bitch we stepping on shit
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| He pull up with a knife, if he try then we popping your top, he can’t go to the
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| shop cause he dead
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| He ain’t thinking right, shit
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| His head must be tight, we gone blow that bitch off a his head
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| He say he got steppas, we catch and blow out they spine, you know that shit
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| take out the legs
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| We ready to clip thru some roster, you think you a rockstar, this choppa gone
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| cut off your dreads, yeah
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| I’m outta my mind, Percocets in my body, you know I be full of them meds
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| But I be quick to draw down, make a pussy lay down, We done filled a bitch
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| nigga with lead
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| Up with the choppa and aim where his mouth at
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| Bitch we gone make you regret what you said
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| Slinging that iron, for the dracos and nines, bitch you get outta line we gone
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| take off your head
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| Yeah
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| Bitch just called me like she just seen an opp
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| I’m like bitch well you know how to play it
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| Go get his number while he in the car, .40 blow off his jaw while you giving
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| head
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| I know that my Opps be pussy, I catch em they dying, they say if you scared,
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| you dead
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| My Youngin come spin on a Bmx bike
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| And he got a shooter with him on the peds
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| My steppa been creeping for weeks, bitch we on every street, we gone find where
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| you stay at
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| Come thru yo door, while you getting some sleep
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| Leave you all on the sheets, blow your brains on the bed
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| Nobody body gone leave, everybody gone bleed, we don’t talk to police,
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| we don’t speak to the feds
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| Bitch I bang 23, double M fuck with me, Static clutchin that 30 stick,
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| Ready to spread
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| Bitch we don’t sleep on the Opps
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| Get a drop and we creeping with chops
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| We got the key to the locks
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| Or we bust that bitch open with Glocks
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| We be clutching that pole, we gone pop if he trip he gone drop
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| 23 sending shots
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| Ima twist your ass up when I blow with that stick, they have to take you outta
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| knot
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| We wet this shit up like a mop
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| He say that it’s up, when we catch em he drop
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| Nigga how many shots you got? |
| A lot
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| Nigga how the fuck is you gone talk with no top
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| I heard that lil' boy tryna plot
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| Hop out, put that bitch in a box
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| Shots from the drac knock his face in the rocks
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| We smoking on dead niggas, choking on opps
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| Bring that bit close and I bang
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| Niggas just hating, his face got caught in the Glock
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| We wit the gang, play with my mans bitch we come and get at ya momma
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| We got them K’s
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| Dracos and big bitches, they been kin to Osama
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| My lil' shooter come zip you for a couple zips, and just just for the work I
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| give him a few dollars
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| Give him a few commas, he aim at your collar
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| My nigga slide thru and he bussing that choppa
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| Long range, and get close to his noggin don’t matter gone burner the lil' bitch
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| just like lobster
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| Say you got a problem, my rifle gone solve em
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| Gone blow your shit if you think you a robber
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| 3 to the face this a pair of air Prada
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| We gone send that lil' fat mouthin bitch to the doctor
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| We gone walk up and shhh his ass
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| I just got a nine and the peg at the front make it silent
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| And that bitch you been cuffing, the whole gang be done hit her
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| I used to pass he to my partner
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| When I see a opp, I be tryna take off, nigga pass the rock and show you how I’m
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| rocking
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| Pop off at the mouth, we pop you like a willy, pop you like a perky,
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| pop you like a molly |