| Face to face, you’re in my space
|
| And this time we cut right down to the chase
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| I’m respected, I’ma be collectin'
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| I’ma handle mine 'til it’s perfected
|
| Face to face, you’re in my space
|
| And this time we cut right down to the chase
|
| I’m respected, I’ma be collectin'
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| I’ma handle mine 'til it’s perfected
|
| Talon tucker and a greater rhyme dumper
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| Me and Snoopy just dippin', bangin' on these muthafuckas
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| Off the 'urple in this bitch, bangin' on these little bustas
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| We gon' show you niggas how you s’posed to twerk the little hustle
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| Nigga, watch, learn, and see what the K hit
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| 'Cause when we hit the party, shit gets archaic
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| Gators, perms, Deuce and a Quarters
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| G shit, pimp shit, always crack a bitch shit
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| Next time I see a bitch I might place an order
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| Like, 'bitch, make sure you meet me in about a quarter
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| And make sure you bring the Henn, bring about a quarter
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| 'Cause I’m tryna smoke, bitch, and that’s an order
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| I’m too DPG’d up, little pony
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| Your big homeboy got socked by my little homie
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| I got a 6−6 Impala, top dollar
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| I pop more than my collar if your bitch is tryna holla
|
| Face to face, you’re in my space
|
| And this time we cut right down to the chase
|
| I’m respected, I’ma be collectin'
|
| I’ma handle mine 'til it’s perfected
|
| I had dreams of a pimp mixed with a little player
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| Up all night, see, other kids couldn’t stay up
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| Drink with my momma all day, Schlitz Malt
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| And go into the liquor, steal and get caught
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| «Ring My Bell,» first record that I bought
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| I learned how to squab hangin' at King Park
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| My homeboy D-Dawg, he turned me onto B-ball
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| And then he threw me a sack, said 'this how we ball'
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| And before you know it
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| If it’s money on the Eastside, I gotta go get it, I’m down for it
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| Fly as a muh’fucka, hoes know it
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| I gangbang on the sizide and down to show it
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| I came from nickels to dubs, I did that
|
| On the wrong side, now I’m on the right side
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| Used to say he wouldn’t ride, now you say he might ride
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| Nigga fell in love with the late night, dub life, hood life
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| Now tell me what it look like
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| So poor, sleeping on the floor, not a good life
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| Is what we reach for every day
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| Player, that’s the only way a nigga wanna play
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| I can’t fuck with the bitch if she don’t pay
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| Money, attention, attention, money
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| Lick your thumbs and peel mine back
|
| It’s real like that 'cause I feel like that
|
| Face to face, you’re in my space
|
| And this time we cut right down to the chase
|
| I’m respected, I’ma be collectin'
|
| I’ma handle mine 'til it’s perfected
|
| You know I’m back hustlin', got to get it on
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| Ain’t no, ain’t no stoppin', gotta ball 'til I fall
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| Armor All my tires, shine 'em up, rims, nigga, ain’t nothin'
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| Big faces, homeboy, in the ride straight jumpin'
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| 6−6 swervin' down the highway
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| Yeah, your bitch, yeah, she doin' it my way
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| Gotta respect it or catch a hot one in a second
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| I get stupid for the fetish, get G’d up 'cause I’m breadish
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| Where you headed, homie? |
| Yeah, no one knows
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| I’ll keep it to myself 'cause bullshit is bad for a nigga health
|
| I asked the question last week, yeah, how did it felt
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| When I had to grab the AK straight off the shelf (Blaow!)
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| I spray you down, lay you down, stay around
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| Be found, slumped, dead, homie, all the way 'cross town
|
| This is what is, G shit on the set
|
| We stay connected, disrespect it and we break your neck, cuz
|
| Face to face, you’re in my space
|
| And this time we cut right down to the chase
|
| I’m respected, I’ma be collectin'
|
| I’ma handle mine 'til it’s perfected |