| Guess who’s back again, here to wreck the track again
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| I split flames, and leave haters blacker than a African
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| Guess who’s back again, here to wreck the track again
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| I split flames, and leave haters blacker than a African
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| Guess who’s back again, here to wreck the track again
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| I split flames, and leave haters blacker than a African
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| When I attack I win, ain’t no draws in this
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| You hearing it out the Boss Hogg, ain’t no flaws in this
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| You bitch niggas got me pissed, trying to slander my name
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| Trying to cut a nigga wrist, after I hand you the game
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| Y’all some five percent homies, three bitch ass phonies
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| I guess I gotta show the world, that y’all ain’t got nothing on me You think you the Northstar, bitch you ain’t the Northstar
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| You disappeared off the earth, fell off by far
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| He don’t even got a car, just a white cup of bar
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| A one and a two liter, you ain’t no block bleeder
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| I’m talking bout that little sorry hoe, named Lil Mario
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| When I left the house, I wanted to see just how far he’d go Nowhere ain’t shit changed, since back in the game
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| He’s still broke with no hope, and I guess I’m to blame, ha Guess who’s bizack, back and stacking that do'
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| Getting green, is all we know
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| I won’t leave my gat, gat in my lap when I roll
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| Try to jack, and get your bitch ass froze
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| And who was this other cat, still scoring fifty packs
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| He 26 but selling dope in the bricks, since way back
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| I think they call him Black Mario, or Snake Skin
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| I don’t even know this nigga, but I heard him hating
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| I am the Kappa, I heard you on the twelve tracks
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| Slim Thug you ain’t no thug, I’ll lay you flat on your back
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| Off top boy you wack, drop your pen and your pad-a |