| I feel the frost, it’s winter, hop off the porch
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| Come back in a Porsche waving the torch
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| Blowing smoke out the compound with the cartel
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| White girl riding shotgun if the cops come
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| Strive, I sit back and I pop one
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| Flow like making out with a shotgun
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| Mark my words until the shots come
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| I’ll probably hit a wall before the stop button
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| I told Jay fuck with his day job
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| By that night we were in Hollywood
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| I be knowing that they be hating on me
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| Low-key, true say though it’s high-key
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| Know they hating, no they don’t like me
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| But they gon' wheel it like they were biking
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| I recite and then they bite it
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| Told my ting when I touchdown I’ma spike it
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| Smoking at the party 'cause I’m anxious
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| Can’t let my guard down 'cause its dangerous
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| If I don’t see the angles it is angels
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| Rest in peace, they’re hungry and they are angered
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| Don’t sip no Jäger, I’m sober, voice on my shoulder, remember
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| They were killing all summer, won’t see the sun in November
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| Won’t see your seed in December, missing your presents
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| They say the presence a gift |