| How ya' leave your mans dead for a broke bitch?
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| Most these rap niggas on some hoe shit
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| How ya' leave your mans dead for a broke bitch?
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| Most these rap niggas on some hoe shit
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| How going to school gone teach more shit
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| And the teacher said I wouldn’t be shit?
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| Most these rap niggas on some hoe shit
|
| How going to school gone teach more shit
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| And the teacher said I wouldn’t be shit?
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| L’A Capone speaking, man
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| Team Six Hunnid!
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| («Six Owe!»)
|
| («Six Owe!»)
|
| («Six Owe!»)
|
| Niggas know how I’m coming, man
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| You know, I just gotta separate myself man. |
| .
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| From all this fufu shit
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| It’s a lot of fufu shit going on round here, kid
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| Ya' hear me?
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| How ya' leave your mans dead for a broke bitch?
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| Most these rap niggas on some hoe shit
|
| How going to school gone teach more shit
|
| And the teacher said I wouldn’t be shit?
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| I guess I’m just stuck on that street shit
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| Niggas mad cause we ball on that Heat shit
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| And everyday, I pop out on some flee shit
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| I love designer, that’s me, shit
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| How you talking to hoes 'bout bro and 'em?
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| Why you talking to hoes 'bout bro and 'em?
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| Pillow-talking, we gotta expose him
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| If he got them O’s, then we poke him
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| L’A too real, can’t clone him!
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| You ain’t talking no bands, then don’t phone him
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| Two-tone chrome under the True shirt
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| Try to go on a date and get your boo hurt
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| I don’t like no dramatic bitch
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| So I just separate myself from shit
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| If you post up, I hope you brought your kit
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| Cause I’m wounding cats when that chopper spit
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| Lil' Dee in the trap, pop out, Glock out
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| He’ll kill, I ain’t lying, heard it from the horse mouth
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| Can’t walk through the Six, you a Brick, 'nother route
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| Hit a stain for the shit, made it flip, 'nother house
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| Young nigga hood, but I’m trying to make it out
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| Meanwhile, these guys trying to get clout
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| Riding through the 'hood, we let 30's hang out
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| And if he ain’t Double Owe then he can’t hang out
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| Fuck talking tough, nigga we can bang out
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| It was raining out when my mom put me out
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| But I don’t understand what the net beef 'bout
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| It’s a drill in your hood so nobody hang out
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| I ain’t never heard 'bout a top-notch bitch
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| Some raw little chick who ain’t did no dick
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| So when I get a check, put ice on my wrist
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| Got a whole lot of shit, nothing for a bitch
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| My name hold weight so niggas wanna kick
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| Call up the lean man, need another six
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| Get another stain then do another hit
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| Slide on the O, get a yop, now I’m lit
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| Chuckle. |
| Chuckle.
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| I be high as fuck, man, that shit crazy!
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| Niggas know I’m coming
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| Squad!
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| («Squa-squad!»)
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| We don’t tolerate bitch-ness
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| Sneak diss bad for your fitness
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| Let’s get this, hit your block up, leave no witness
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| 25 shots, that’s Christmas
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| Got a handful of niggas on hitlists
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| I made this here for the bitches
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| And the snitches, and the lames
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| Brick nigga, stay in your lane
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| Only so long 'fore a nigga get changed
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| All the opps wanna put dirt on my name
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| I’m a still be the same, you can keep the change
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| Ain’t too many young niggas in the game
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| That can say they ain’t never been a muh' fuckin' lame
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| I watched these niggas get bitched by the gang
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| It’s levels to this shit, man |