| Aiyyo
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| One two, one two
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| One two, one two
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| This one right here
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| Goes out to all the fake thugs out there
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| Yeah, yeah uh huh
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| Yo, when you say you thuggin', it doesn’t matter
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| It goes into my mind as just chit-chatter
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| You may say I have a ego, or just merry free
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| But none of that tough talk I take seriously
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| It goes in one ear and right out the other
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| Heard that fake thug shit? |
| brotha
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| I don’t mean to brag, never never hate
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| You ain’t got the bank that it takes to stop this
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| Ha, ha, ha, ha sucker, you missed
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| I put feelings aside, you know who I am
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| P-U-2-F, keys to the U. S
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| And I hate when one attempts to analyze
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| Franchise, get your hands tied
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| Thrown over a boat, don’t know what you was thinking
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| That dream is over, your body sinking
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| Yo yo yo, yo yo yo, fucka
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| You thugs out there who don’t got a clue
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| (You have Brooklyn, ain’t shoot the shit out)
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| Yo, fuck you, you and you, fuck you and you
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| (You have Jersey, ain’t shoot the shit out)
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| Hey yo bitch, you know what I want when I bring my crew
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| (We go Uptown and shoot the shit out)
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| Yo, we want hardcore, smash the walls
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| I stack, bring it back for y’all
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| With 40 nigga’s after y’all
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| We got it ziplocked (that's right)
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| Everybody hit the floor when the shit drop
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| Shit knocked, bitch stop (bitch, stop)
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| We roll, we ball, we all night long
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| We don’t stop, nigga’s thought the heat was gone
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| But I’m back to do it again, leader of rhyme
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| BAD BOY, we turn it to the scene of the crime
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| Immaculate fame, you can have that shit
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| I just wanna 'gaitor slide with the baddest bitch
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| Models and actresses that swallow bottles
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| That magnum shit
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| Get nice as fuck, leave when the lights is up
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| Tear it down when the mics is up
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| Lately they say Diddy’s gettin' nice as hell
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| Shit, if I don’t write it I recite it well
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| Locked the flow so tight you gotta know
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| I’mma tumble 'fore they rock my dough
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| Motherfuckers
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| Yo yo yo, yo yo yo, fucka
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| You thugs out there, you don’t got a clue
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| (You have Boogie Down, don’t shoot the shit out)
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| Yo, fuck you, you and you, fuck you and you
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| (You got Shaolin, don’t shoot the shit out)
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| Hey yo bitch, you know what I want when I bring my crew
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| (You have QB, don’t shoot the shit out)
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| Yo, you want hardcore, smash the walls
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| I stack, bring it back for y’all
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| With 40 nigga’s after y’all
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| Aiyyo ladies, get up
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| Bounce your tits up
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| Be happy Brooklyn ain’t shoot this shit up
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| Cause I see some ladies tonight
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| That I could give a condom or 3 babies tonight
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| You might catch a flight if you playing me right
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| But if you whack there you gettin cab fare
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| Yo, I’m all for drama, a little clap clap there
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| I mean I ain’t Ghandi of this whole rap gear
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| But you see honey that I’m rappin with there?
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| All I need is a minute to get her back to the Leer
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| Back where it is, less traffic there
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| Where Cease is with a few of his pieces
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| That’s how we is, we slide and divide
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| If she ain’t with it, I-95
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| Hit the road tramp, and don’t you come back no more
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| No more, no more, no more
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| Yo yo yo, yo yo yo, fucka
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| You thugs out there, you don’t got a clue
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| (You got Def Squad, don’t shoot the shit out)
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| Yo, fuck you, you and you, fuck you and you
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| (You got Bad Boy, don’t shoot the shit out)
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| Hey yo bitch, you know what I want when I bring my crew
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| (We go Brick City, don’t shoot the shit out)
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| Yo, you want hardcore, smash the walls
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| I stack, bring it back for y’all
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| With 40 nigga’s after y’all
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| Repeat chorus until fade |