| Regime Life nigga!
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| What!
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| Speak on it!
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| Tech N9ne (Tech N9ne)
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| Uh
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| Phats Boss (Phats Boss)
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| Gonzoe (Gonzoe)
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| L.Q. |
| nigga (L.Q.)
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| Throw up yo hands if you thugged out!
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| First nigga act up, first nigga gettin drugged out!
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| Throw up yo hands if you thugged out!
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| First nigga act up, first nigga gettin drugged out!
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| Balla position
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| Regime niggas fuck all’a ya women draped up in linen
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| I spit this fly shit since I was 5 years old
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| On some 'ol Osh Kosh Bi’Gosh shit
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| Toss ya bitch, keep it top secret, lock it
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| Smoke-A-Lot click, walkin around wit ounces in they pockets
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| Bitches jock it
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| We ridin Benz’s, ya’ll still drivin 50 rockets
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| Nigga don’t knock it
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| But you need to stop it
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| Top notch shit
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| I used to cop bricks
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| Rock it up an chop like La-Bobbitt
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| Pushin the 5 whip through the projects til the led 9 spits
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| Nigga you rhyme sick, but you could never fuck around wit my shit
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| My click my crew nigga
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| That hard time shit
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| Criminal minded, posted on the grind shit
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| That cone silencer for one time shit
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| Turnin, pounds into ashes
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| Drinkin Cristal from the bottle
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| Fuck ya glasses
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| Smokin Black-N-Milds to the plastic
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| The last trial was kinda drastic
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| Limo driver got his ass kicked, tryin to sue us
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| BUT YOU LOST YOU FUCKIN BASTARD!
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| I’m A-1 Yola juss like the package
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| Delivered in triple wrappin
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| Niggas get blasted an put in a casket
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| Ashes to ashes an dust to dust, when they fuck wit Yuk
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| Plus I got my own record label
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| SO WHAT THE FUCK IS UP!
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| When things is usual we pop Christy
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| An stack them Bentley’s
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| Ya pockets empty pretending to be me
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| They name me Bossi
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| My whole click rich like we the Cosby’s
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| Slippin’s costly
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| It’s cut-throat so fuck a softie
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| In head to head combat
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| You scared to bust back
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| An trust that
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| Call the Regime we known to pull gats in black hats
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| Hop out the company truck
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| Give a fuck, fill my cup an celebrate wit Yuk
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| Now that we grown ups
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| Rock alligators an bumpin slow cuts
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| Juss like the Sho Nuff, we can’t be touched
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| I was raised ruff
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| Gang banged an hand cuffed
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| Fightin always showin my guts, flexin my nuts
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| Hand me my 'Uervo
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| Flip work like we was Trader Joe’s from Cisco
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| Optimo, now it’s X-O
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| Fightin my for death
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| Pray it’s my brother that’s kept
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| When you owe, pay ya debt an we can make it some
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| We got it bundled up
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| Gimme my scratch
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| It’s juss my turn an I’mma take mine
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| Trap
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| Nigga don’t get attached
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| Tryin to soak up, listenin
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| Tryin to locate my donuts an hit 'em
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| While we juss got on fuckin up my buisness
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| Never finished
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| Til we give up the plate
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| Extra innings
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| Swing for the fence
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| You think too little
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| Your world dance wit mud puddles
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| My shit Evian, I love trouble
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| Start wisperin wit ya hands wide open, watchin you huddle
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| Big every down
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| Everybody got guns, let 'em ring
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| You fuckin wit me, let’s all go out wit a bang
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| In this last day, this last hour
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| Kool-aid chest cowards wit they life in my hands set off the power
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| Lights out
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| the whole house
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| Wit a gallon of gas to douse
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| Light a flame an flush 'em out
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| Every slug count
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| Miss an get your stripes took
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| Nigga this is real life wit real names written in the black books!
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| Throw up yo hands if you thugged out!
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| First nigga act up, first nigga gettin drugged out!
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| Throw up yo hands if you thugged out!
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| First nigga act up, first nigga gettin drugged out!
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| I can be a villian if ya… let me! |
| (thugged out!!)
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| First nigga act up, first nigga gettin drugged out!
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| I can be a villian if ya… let me! |
| (thugged out!!)
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| First nigga act up, first nigga gettin drugged out!
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| (Check it)
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| Ever since I was a youngsta been wit this slick shit
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| Tryin to touch a quick one, number one
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| Turn an 18 to a full 36 ain’t jokin thats how we did it
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| We was natural born chemists
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| Ballin wit this, Benjamin big heads in my fist
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| Got ya life in my pocket an more than that on my wrist
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| I got my degree in the concreate of S. C
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| Comprised wit gettin paper, an started investin in me
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| Utilized my hustle skills beyond my record deal
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| And time will reveal whose really holdin the skrill
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| Playboy ya lackin, ain’t touchin my tax brackets
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| You fuckin wit some thugs, wit some multi-million dollar
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| An if it’s on an crackin then my reaction is clappin |
| Is you gon' make it happen or is ya high cappin?
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| Ya betta get to trackin playboy if you ain’t packin
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| Smoke-A-Lot, Regime is distributin max
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| Spent years over the stove in a mini-factory lab
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| Where illegal pharmaceudicals were sold
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| I was probably 10 years old when I learned to disassemble
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| Then reassemble a semi-auto matic pistol blind fold!
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| They call me Regime, cuz I’m way clean in stay Beam
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| Never live in no day dream, bitch niggas wear Maybelline
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| Throwin up peace cuz you know that I got you
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| Moolay kwa assalam rahmatuallahi wa barakatuh
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| Killa!
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| Rogue Dog! |
| Rogue Dog!
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| 57 venomous!
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| When I bust this shit got a gang of criminals feelin us
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| I’m from Waymeyer the same kinda pain caine grinda
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| Wit a scripta
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| Stickin out like a skin head at a bar mitzvah
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| Fuck wit N9ne get snuffed out
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| Phats Bossi, Maxx, Poppa L.Q., Gonzoe
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| An my nigga Yukmouth, thugged out!
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| Any nigga wit the bombay
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| Never con-ways displayed
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| So-right, so-tight
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| New York niggas say be John Blazed
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| I been to the ringa
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| Scrapped 'em like I was a guest on Jerry Springer
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| Wit desert eagle, tech meezle
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| A a nigga, a drop a
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| I die a lil nigga
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| Leave 'em wit a 30 round drummer
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| Slit ya throat then we skip out, «I Know What You Did Last Summer»
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| Ain’t nobody fuckin wit Regime niggas
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| Bust gats at ya cats makin extreme figures
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| Get ready for the Rogue Dogs, told ya’ll we seperatin yo jaw
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| Fuckin yo hoes dog
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| Lickin toes, balls
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| Makin mutha fuckin clothes fall
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| Oh! |
| You mutha fuckas don’t know!
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| At the show you trippin, gotta go get the steel toe
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| To the brain nigga
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| REGIME KILLAS keep the function poppin
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| You really wanna know what time we leave, shit…
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| YES!
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| REGIME KILLAS… NIGGA!!! |