| You a broke nigga, I’m a dope nigga
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| You a broke nigga, I’m a coke dealer
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| You a broke nigga, I’m a dope dealer
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| You a broke nigga, you got no figures
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| You a broke nigga, I’m a dope nigga
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| You a broke nigga, I’m a coke dealer
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| You a broke nigga, I’m a dope dealer
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| You a broke nigga, you got no figures
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| The sun rise where the sun set
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| I chase the money while a son rest
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| OTM, we the gun set
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| Delinquent payments leave your son wet
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| Leave a mess all over the drum set, want mines and nothin' less
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| Used to be the sixth man now they callin' me the Brick man
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| AKA bust a script, keep a hunnit clip in the stick man
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| Hustle, I am the boss but I started off as a hitman
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| Flossin' all on my strip and it got you stripped to the wristband
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| Get back when I click-clack, new shotty, no kickbacks
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| Mishaps get them giftwrapped, body parts lookin' mismatched
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| Left his head where his dicks at, handgrenade where his bitch at
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| Put the gun where his lips at, all for doin' that chit-chat
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| They say I’m vile, fuck it I take it
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| Stack money long as the Nile and it’s all for my mommas smile
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| All in a leap year, let your man rob me for a cheap fare, we share
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| Part of my stature, I treat your jaw like the law and it’s gettin' fractured
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| Cop it then whip it after
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| This shit I’m sippin' got me caught up in a rapture
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| Even when I’m throwed it ain’t a throne I couldn’t capture
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| You a broke nigga, I’m a dope nigga
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| You a broke nigga, I’m a coke dealer
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| You a broke nigga, I’m a dope dealer
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| You a broke nigga, you got no figures
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| You a broke nigga, I’m a dope nigga
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| You a broke nigga, I’m a coke dealer
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| You a broke nigga, I’m a dope dealer
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| You a broke nigga, ain’t got no figures
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| Before I was a standout niggas knew I was standup
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| Heard you took the stand on your homie and gave your mans up
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| Jack boys came, you turned pussy then gave them grams up
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| Police brought the pressure, they panickin', get they plans up
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| You ain’t my kin, I ate your bitch and chased it with a shot of gin
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| She told you she got the gin
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| I know that I’m prone to sin, I know that I’m prone to win
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| I know that I’m prone to pull up and serve a nigga and spin
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| The weed musty, the juice dirty, the blade rusty
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| I’m unlucky, I triple crossed you, can’t trust me
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| My, my trap jumpin', the fiends dusty
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| I owe Papi my work fire, I lean busty
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| Any season keep the snow like I’m Jack Frost
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| Five star telly, you’re posted up in a crack loft
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| Pounds get lost in the postal, now that’s a pack loss
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| Told the plug double the order and got the pack off
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| I’m a real trapper you niggas just some pedestrians
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| Polo all over my body like an equestrian
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| Shorty got that wet hair, she wavy, feel like I’m jetskiing
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| Slide up in that pussy then skate off I call it Gretzkyin' |