| It came at a price
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| The way that I play, this shit that makes you feel nice
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| Tonight’s that lights
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| The sparkling lights, the curves that got the nerve right
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| To change your mind, to reach in and find
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| A space down inside that is just mine’s
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| And crack that whip, and flash and glitz, and mash and dri? |
| and cash out
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| And claim me a slice
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| The feelings, the ice, the hotter over my dice
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| We watch the stars, to find out how far we got to go to get ours
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| You on my mind, I put it on the line
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| Now relax and lemme touch your diamonds
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| And crack that whip, and flat out wit
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| And blast that shit, blast that
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| Heat up the grease
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| Pull out the 'lacs and the straps and the minks
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| Heat up the kinks
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| Shine out the links and pour out the drinks
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| Ever since the ships came
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| We kicked slick game, make name and staked the claim
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| And never ever ever tame
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| And stay way fresher than the oppressor, we call that
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| Survival
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| With Style x4
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| And every time we move, we do it
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| Straight up
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| And all the beat we bump is a gun
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| Straight up
|
| The devil ?? |
| let the party run
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| Straight up
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| Instead go get the fun we
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| Straight up
|
| The street the beat the heat we
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| Straight up
|
| Everything high come down
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| Straight up
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| Stars the head, on the ground
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| Straight up
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| Bent down then we push it out
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| Straight up, up, up
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| It’s the renegade MC
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| Pump heat off that corner up that nose
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| Give a shit about your pop charts
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| Lead to the beat, clowns with your pop chart flows
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| Got game and secret names and ghetto fame, y’all changing ranks
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| When I pop off the style & slang and make you change, won’t mean a fucking thing
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| You bought your titles and your write-ups and your
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| I got my flirt on in a thousand dollar shirt and told your little bitch to let
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| me know
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| She smiled, I styled, I’m wild
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| I live out loud, I’m proud
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| Black beast wear yellow sneaks and pink shirts they stand out in the crowd
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| When the wind blew, you been too
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| The changing times
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| A straight to the top of my mind into a new rhyme nigga that’s what a true pimp
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| do
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| Your rap’s a corporation, a soft drink nigga, what can y’all tell us?
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| This for all the chicks and fellas in the hoods y’alls barrios and favelas
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| Nah really, what’s up with this bullshit that they be tryn’a sell us
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| What the fuck we look like, corny ass niggas eating jello in a crowd at an open
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| mic?
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| Hell to the nah, intelligent relevant
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| Live survivors they wanna hear something elegant
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| You reheated your beats and rhymes so many time niggas that why I climb hella
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| quick |