| Four years ago I was stuck on the grind
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| Slangin' crack 50 sacks straight 20's and dimes
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| Till I came with shit that got a muthafucka known
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| Coolin' on the corner with the cellular phone
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| Took a test to be a muthafuckin' G
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| And all the niggas came amazed at me
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| Since the age of 16 I been slangin' the crack
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| The fiends used to scream for my muthafuckin' sacks
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| I used to cut the lleyo down to the bone
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| But now I’m killin' niggas on the microphone
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| Sp-Spice 1 kickin' shit to mass
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| A hennessy lemon squeeze and bubble bath
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| You see that’s the life that I lead
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| I put a slug in a nigga try to fuck with me
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| So step back move back niggas try to jack
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| But ain’t no muthafuckin' love I put you on your back
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| Start some shit at the party first nigga to glance
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| I pull out my Glock and make him piss in his pants
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| No shorts on a dove I’m tryna come above
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| They call me Spice 1 and ain’t no muthafuckin' love
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| I said ONE to the TWO, TWO to TWO THREE
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| Put a slug in your ass for you to say G
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| The S to the P the I the C-E
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| You sucka ass niggas can’t fuck with me
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| (Spice 1):
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| I rolls a gold Cherokee nothin like a Seville
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| And when you look up inside you see a nigga that’s real
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| So if you see me cruisin' by keep your hands to your side
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| You might catch a slug if I’m on a Hoo-ride
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| I said I first come I first served basis
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| Niggas catchin' slugs in a lot of strange places
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| One of a kind for my people’s delight
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| And to you sucka ass niggas you just ain’t right
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| Because you’re snitchin' on your homies be seat up in the pen
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| And niggas wanna stick you if they see your ass again
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| You’re hangin' on the Ave you’re chillin' with the crew
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| But niggas walk away and all the bullets hittin' you
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| (Spice 1):
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| I said ONE to the TWO, TWO to THREE
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| My DJ Xtra-large and G-N-U-T
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| We roll up in the place pointin' straps at your face
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| Tinted windows black hearse gold daytons straight lace
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| Let off rounds you fall down to the ground
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| You sucka ass nigga another dead clown
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| You’re a 5 dollar boy and I’m a million dollar player
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| You’s a sucka ass nigga I had to spray ya
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| You say you pack a Nine and a Nine is fine
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| But I’m blowin' out the back of your head from behind
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| I’m comin' from the sickest city around
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| Spittin' some gangsta shit the Dirty Bay is the town
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| So G-nut and if you’re bigger or pack the tight figure
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| Shoot these haters with the strap that you got from that dead nigga
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| G-N-U-T in the place to be
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| Pimp straight up out a player’s university
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| Every since kindergarden I acquired the knowledge
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| Didn’t have no mail so I said: 'fuck college!'
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| I’m brown-skinned comin' straight out the stack
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| And the game that I spit’ll put your bitch on the back
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| I’m dressed to kill I love to style
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| I’m the MC you know ho check my file
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| The big-lip nigga for your regard
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| 500 dollar spread for the credit card
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| I hit your town then I go back home
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| Break a bitch for her mail bought a cadillac chrome
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| Deep in the cut for all you bitches delight
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| And if a nigga playa-hate he gon have to fight
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| Because when I grind I hits the strip
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| Every time I sell out I buy a brand-new zip
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| It don’t take a lot to entertain'
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| And like my nigga Method Man I’mma bring the pain
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| You can’t rock the shop if you high off hop
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| You gotta let a nigga know you’ll never stop
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| And your game gotta make a lot of sense
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| You gotta know when to start when the pimpin' begins |