| Richie boys, fuck boys, flappin' lips, no noise
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| Hatchet boys, chrome toys, takin' sips and end that noise
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| I’m the type of mother fucker strip you out them skinny jeans
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| Stomp you with my Cortezes, piss on you and leave the scene
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| They sayin' that I’m better, not a scrub like that cheddar
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| Take a bat to your ding-a-ling and dome — that’s a double header
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| You best knock the fuck with the clown if you’s a punk
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| Your good luck, it suck, end up tied up in my trunk
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| Silent boy, shook boy, taped up mouth, no noise
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| Sticker boy, shark toy, carve 'em up and end that noise
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| People askin' questions though, I know nothing, know what I mean?
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| Never foldin' under pressure, try and crack me but I’m clean
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| Receivin' mad letters, when I read 'em I get redder
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| Sayin' we ain’t shit, now used to be, forgot we neck cutters
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| 'Cause that’s where the buck stop dead in its tracks, kaplunk
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| You sunk, any more questions’ll get you fucked up
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| Don’t ask me what I think of you
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| Hurt feelings, broken bones, healings, we’s peeling through the loose screws
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| Don’t ask me what I think of you
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| I might not get the answer that you want me to
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| Givin' fucks, lotta fucks, carin' much, nuh uh
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| Heartless fucks, straight crooks, kidney punch, oh yeah
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| I’ll play it on your profile and grab your bitch ass by the throat
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| Squeeze it 'til my hands are hurt and leave 'em with your shoes and coat
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| Them shit’s fit perfect, but a scrub need that cash flow
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| Used to run with the crooked crooks, now it’s ICP, though
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| Jibber jabber, better known as mouth diarrhea
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| Zip that shit fast, or I might have to come and see ya
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| Scary fuck, chief fuck, tryin' to be down, nuh uh
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| I’m smart as fuck, what up? |
| Lay your money down, oh yeah
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| Scoop it up and lay you flat, leave you where you at, broke
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| Hate to take your money card, for them pills and coke
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| This fool gon' need a a, I’ma have to lay one on his chin
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| In his bushes at his house, cracked out, seems I can’t win
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| You lookin' up to me? |
| 'Cause all I see you as is blood splatter
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| I’m still a G, let me be, no questions, it don’t matter
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| Don’t ask me what I think of you
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| Hurt feelings, broken bones, healings, we’s peeling through the loose screws
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| Don’t ask me what I think of you
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| I might not get the answer that you want me to
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| Never ask me about me, that’s my business, that’s my privacy
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| Never ask me 'bout you, still my business, my own thoughts too
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| My thoughts are big and vast like the sea, soon you’ll see
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| You’ll get your wig blew, we ain’t no partners, and you in my boot
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| But you gotta press and keep on pressin' me about it
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| Back off, tread light before I scream «Fuck off!»
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| You ain’t tryin' to chill, what’s next, 'bout to back up and shout it
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| I think of you as free money or I’ll merk you, step the fuck off, ha!
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| Don’t ask me what I think of you
|
| Hurt feelings, broken bones, healings, we’s peeling through the loose screws
|
| Don’t ask me what I think of you
|
| I might not get the answer that you want me to (Ha!)
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| Don’t ask me what I think of you
|
| Hurt feelings, broken bones, healings, we’s peeling bruised
|
| Don’t ask me what I think of you
|
| I might not get the answer that you want me to (Ha!)
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| Don’t ask me what I think of you
|
| Hurt feelings, broken bones, healings, we’s peeling bruised
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| Don’t ask me what I think of you
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| I might not get the answer that you want me to (Ha!)
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| «can fuck off» |