| I make this shit look easy nigga
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| Y’know? |
| Yeah, uhh, look
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| I make this rap shit look easy so fuck a rocket scientist
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| Just tables and a mic and Tash’ll rock them old appliances
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| Alliances was formed in California, swarmin
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| The West coast is back so it’s finally dawnin on 'em
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| The West coast ain’t went nowhere but up the street
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| To get a half ounce of kush, a couple bitches and the heat
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| Freaky-Ric (k)y be the system, cause my style is extra popular
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| Your girl think it’s sexy when I’m drinkin beer on top of her
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| Crazy as a baby but the grown CaTash get it
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| J-Ro and King Tee we represent the click Likwit
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| I would fix it if it’s broke but we far from broke homey
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| Above the law so the cops can’t plant no coke on me
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| Only way to stop CaTash is, jump out the bushes
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| Or snipe me through a window while I put away the dishes
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| But that’ll never happen, I’mma dyin at this rappin
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| You won’t make it to your car before the straps start to clappin
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| You know how we get down («Kick it over here»)
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| We show no fear, that’s how we («Kick it over here»)
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| You might wanna visit and («Kick it over here»)
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| But then you disappear, cause it’s amped over here
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| Yeah, that’s just how we do it round here
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| You might wanna show up and («Kick it over here»)
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| West coast 'bout to blow up, you scared call the cops
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| All hell breaks loose when we («Mmmm, DROP!»)
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| I drove in with a few rowdy friends, new body Benz
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| King Jaffe ends, my rims don’t spin
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| I’m the type of nigga had it poppin in the pen
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| You the type of nigga I was sockin in the chin
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| But look I bought the bar then, 'gnac and gin
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| Gran Marnier, nigga mixed with Henn
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| The King ain’t trippin cause I just don’t grin
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| My crew ain’t snitchin dog, they just don’t bend
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| So, don’t stress, doja, straight to the chest
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| Now hold it, get loaded
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| I’m the bomb young stunna, that old new old school dude
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| 88, fin' to «Act a Fool»
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| And your boy been ballin, nigga been brawlin
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| Nigga been haulin, nigga been lordin
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| Terrorize set by section, Tha Liks’ll make a killin
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| They mention King Tee’s in the building?
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| Alkaholiks hold the title, real American Idols
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| No chance for survival for the Likwit rivals
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| Lookin at my timepiece, it’s about to hit noon
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| And I just kicked a dimepiece up outta my room
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| And it’s been a couple minutes and I’m gettin lonely
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| I need another Cali-rony who only smokes the stony
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| Green like green tea, I sip the Likwit
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| Alkaholiks in the house, y’all punks evicted
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| Go get folded up like the cuff in my jeans
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| Ever since I was a teen, I made music for the fiends
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| Y’all make music for the mentally lean
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| In the land of the blind, the one-eyes man is king
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| J-Ro flow is tropical, scientifical, topical
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| I read a whole novel while I’m puffin an optimo
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| California carnivore, wild as a wild boar
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| We’ll do an album, pick a tour, while you hangin at the liquor store |