| Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes!
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| Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes!
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| Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes!
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| Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes!
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| Y’all know it’s hell when I come through
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| I cast spells with the Bellevue 1−2
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| And we can settle it with shells if you want to
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| Bump you, squeeze first I’mma haunt you
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| Or better yet I’ll let the gun butt lump you
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| Dog tail up ya ass when I confront you, faggot I’mma hunt you
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| Na’an nigga could collab' with me
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| Cause when I spit my sixteen, they get mad at me
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| Have them write their verses over tryna battle me
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| And nigga that’ll be a fatal tragedy
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| Shit, you better off shooting or stabbing me
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| Than stepping in this fucking rap ring and jab with me
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| Get ya weight up motherfucker, wear the belt and the crown
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| Frozen niggas like a dirty gat, I’m melting them down
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| Self in the ground, you fucking with a higher force
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| Niggas be sacrificed, you’ll die on a cross
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| Angel on the pale horse
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| Leave you with multiple wounds when they find you
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| Ya man’s comin right behind you
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| Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes!
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| Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes!
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| Y’all know the flow chops ridiculous
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| Taw like the blow niggas cop on St. Nicholas
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| You think I’m pussy motherfucker stick ya dick in this
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| Like Biggie said shit infected with syphilis
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| Gonorrhea, HIV, flow sick with this
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| Put a condom on ya mic tryna spit with this
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| Tryna get with this, I’mma hit with this
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| Make you slit ya wrist, y’all man a clitoris
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| Like chlamydia, hard to swallow, I burn throat
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| Getting rid of ya with hollows, you mob turncoats
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| Word to the safe in the ceiling
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| My flow’s like a burning punany, hit the clinic get the penicillin
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| You see the logo nigga «STD»
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| Fuck what you heard son, the best be me
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| From Red Hook, y’all niggas know how long we waited
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| Y’all motherfuckers, bout to get cremated
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| Put ya jewels up, put ya house up
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| Put ya tools up, nigga put ya spouse up
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| We can go at it motherfucker album budget for budget
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| And let your a&r judge it
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| Shit, I’ll have ya label push ya project back
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| Cause I get hyper than a fucking hypochondriac
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| Ain’t no responding back
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| My magnum mic’ll push ya conscience back
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| Give ya ass a holy spirit make you haunt the track
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| I, I blaze blaze gun gun sprays sprays
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| Leave ya whole record company in a daze daze
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| Tell ya ceo stop calling my house
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| Or the next fucking song son, I’m calling y’all out
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| Better prepare for the long awaited, finally made it
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| Y’all niggas bout to get cremated!!! |