| Yellow model chick
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| Yellow bottle; |
| sippin'
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| Yellow Lamborghini
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| Yellow top missin'
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| Yup, yup! |
| That stuff look like a toupé
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| I get what you get in 10 years, in 2 days
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| (Ladies love me, I’m on my Cool J
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| If you get what I get), what would you say?
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| He wax it on and off, Mr. Miyagi
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| And 'em suicide doors, Hari-Kari
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| Look at me now
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| Look at me now, oh
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| I’m gettin' paper!
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| Look at me now, oh
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| Look at me now, yeah-yeah-yeah!
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| Fresher than a muh… what?!
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| Little jigga bigger than gorilla
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| Cause I’m tryin' to kill every jigga that tryn' to be on my stuff
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| Better cuff your man if you with him
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| I can’t get him cause he accidentally slip and fall on my crack
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| Oops, I said «on my crack», I ain’t really mean to say «on my crack»
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| But since we’re talkin' about my crack
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| All you haters say hi to that
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| I’m done…
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| No, really though, I’m not done!
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| Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay
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| (Let's go!)
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| Cause I feel like I’m running
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| And I feel like a gotta get away, get away, get away
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| Better know that I don’t and I won’t ever stop
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| Cause you know I gotta win everyday-day
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| See, they don’t really really wanna pop me
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| Just know that you’ll never stop me
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| And I know I can be a little cocky
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| Ooh! |
| You ain’t never gonna flop me
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| Every time I come a jigga gotta set it
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| Then I got it going, then I gotta get it
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| Then I gotta blow it, and then I’m gonna shudder
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| Any little thing the jigga think that he’d be doin'
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| Cause it doesen’t matter, cause I’m gonna da-da-da-da
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| Then I’m gonna murder everything and anything
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| A-badaboom, badabing, I gotta do a lot of things
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| And make it clearer to a couple of jiggas that I’m always winnin'
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| And I gotta get it again and again and again
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| And I be doin' it to death and now I move a little foul
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| A jigga better call a ref, and everybody know my style
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| Jiggas know that I’m the best when it come to doin' this
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| And I be bangin' on my chest
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| And I bang in the east and I bang in the west
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| And I come to give you more, and I will never gave you less
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| You will hear it in the street or you can read it in the press
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| Do you really wanna know what’s next?
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| See, the way we on it, when we all up in the race
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| And you know we gotta go don’t try to keep up with the pace
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| And we strugglin' and hustlin' and sendin' in and gettin' in
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| And always gotta do it, take it to another place
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| Gotta taste it, and I gotta grab it, I gotta cut through all this traffic
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| Just to be at the top of the throne, better know I gotta have it!
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| Man, forget these haters! |
| How ya’ll doin?
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| I’m Lil Tunechi, I’m a nuisance, I go stupid
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| I go dumb like The Three Stooges
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| I don’t eat sushi, I’m the stuff
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| No pollution, no substitution
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| Now I’m chillin' playin' movies in my jacuzzi, fruit is juicy
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| I never gave a damn about a hater
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| Got money on my radar, dress like a skater
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| Got a big house, came with an elevator
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| You jiggas ain’t eatin', go tell a waiter
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| Marley said «shoot 'em» and I said okay
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| You on that bullsh-- I’m like «¡olé!»
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| Don’t care what you say, so don’t even speak
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| Your boyfriend a freak like Cirque du Soleil
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| That’s word to my flag, and my flag red
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| I’m outta my head, yo, I’m outta my mind
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| From the bottom I climb, you ain’t hotter than mine
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| Nope, not on my time, not even tryin'
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| What’s poppin', slime? |
| Nothin', five!
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| And if they trippin' forget 'em, five
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| Ain’t got no time to shuck and jive
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| These jiggas as sweet as pumpkin pie
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| Ciroc and Sprite in a private flight
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| Yo, I been tight since guiding light
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| And my pocket’s white, my diamond’s white
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| My momma’s nice and my daddy’s gone
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| Yo, please be scared, cause I’m too wild
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| Been here for a while, I was like «no trial»
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| I puts it down, I’m so Young Money
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| You got eyes, look at me now, oh!
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| Okay…
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| Okay!
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| Is that right?!
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| I’m fresher than a muh--what? |