| I’m just too hot to touch you know I’m the law
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| I smoke about million pounds of dutch and say what
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| Shortie keep yakking it up and on the low
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| I might take her to the back to fuck, get a nut
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| Nyce, you cant tell me I aint came up
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| Fastball pitcher I deliver with no change up
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| Fuckin right I’m famous, balling like the lakers
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| Only time I move is to go collect my paper
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| See me on the wanted poster, Mad and La Coka Nostra
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| Hop out of my porche, pull my trunk and extort ya
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| Yup we west coast and dog we stay posting
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| Walk with two toasters louis vuitton holsters
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| I’m a bad fucking bastard yup I’m fantastic
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| Four but I’m the Silver Surfer flying through your door
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| Heard you cryin' for the war Im’a try to serve you more
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| Madchilds a dope man leave you lying on the floor
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| Damn chicken heads get their feathers all ruffled up
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| Put the potato on the pound sound muffled up
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| We can get it on like Samoans and Tongans
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| Or we can get to war like the angels and mongols
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| Black mask over my face, I get em
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| Four-five stuck on my waist, I hit em
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| Beat a hater up till he dum dum diddum
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| Swollen and La Coka don’t fuck with em
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| So ladies and ah forget it were not gentlemen
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| I roll up in a stolen car come hop in with them
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| Hand me a pill bottle I dump it and pop ten of them
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| Give me some booze, I sip juice like Rakim and them
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| I got a fuse that’s too short and a noose that’s too long
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| Feeling I could do no wrong
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| This invincibility they’re convinced is killing me
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| Has essentially gotten me through any pinch you’ll ever see
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| When my henchmen are with me tensions on the scene
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| Dreams are being changed a wrench in the machine
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| One mention of the team leave the masses buzzing
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| The rebel, you thought you’re on my level, you wasnt
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| Hotter than Ecuador, son brought a metaphor
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| P-1 I’m ready for war I’m on the front lines
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| Runs in my bloodline thirsty like lost boys
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| Big money bounce my accounts keep em offshore
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| Caribbean breeze there’s ten million reasons
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| Y’all super eight like rich we four seasons
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| Fine linen, sterling silver, bright brightlen, the lady killer
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| I started war and bids when y’all was just kids
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| Came to your town and jumped the fuck around
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| Stomped out a few of you and fucked your lady
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| You still married her and you gave her a baby
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| We were young, we were crazy, we were wild and free
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| Aint a groupie bitch alive get a child from me
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| And now you come to the shows and you reminisce
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| And while she waits for an autograph, you give her a kiss
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| She slips me a hug and a look that’s knowing
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| If I say get on the bus, baby girl its on
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| Lyrics keep flowing and flowing and just flowing
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| Hoes keep hoeing and hoeing and just hoeing
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| Trees get rollen smoking keep blowing
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| Coka and Swollen legend keep growing
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| Fast lane living no time for slowing
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| Gotta know where you been and watch where you’re going |