| They say «Danny, how you get it?»
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| Told 'em «If you gotta ask me, motherfucker, you ain’t with it»
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| Lil' nigga, better give it, with no aura ‘bout you
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| Give a fuck you on the corner, sellin' water bottles
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| This that rusty .38 at Grandma’s place
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| This Bolognese and cheese on New Years Eve
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| Appetite for destruction, my sight see blood
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| Just 'cause I call you cuz' don’t mean we blood
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| It’s that Bruiser Brigade, and it’s fades on deck
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| Give a fuck what you playin', I’ma rep my set
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| Yacht-Master Rolex, but I ain’t got no boat
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| Know that bitch ain’t my ho, but I got that throat
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| Got a target on my back, yeah, my life in the scope
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| 'Cause my name ring bells everywhere I go
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| Bitch, we the new mob, so slob on the knob
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| Only read rob reports in the back of the Saab
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| I kill shit in the booth whenever the mic’s on
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| You know my number, it stay the same like Mike Jones
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| Then I wasn’t hot, but now the hoes all on me
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| Not big as ever, and them niggas still on me
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| Used to be friendly, now I DoorDash Coney
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| Watchin'
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| Curse of Oak Island
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| , hopin' that they found treasure
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| I found peace and fucks with myself beyond measure
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| You flyin' Spirit
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| It only take a knife to turn you to a flyin' spirit
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| Like Casper the Ghost
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| Me and Brown on Collards dumpin' blunts in the Ghost
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| I got the Tommy, he’ll turn you right into ghost
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| So who got the power?
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| And I’m patient
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| Unlike party girls waitin' for powder
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| A nigga like me’ll have you waitin' for hours
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| 'Cause it’s the whitest snow
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| My VVS' get a whitest glow
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| Sunday service, the same place the whiners go
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| Slick nigga, used to dine and go
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| Momma in my ear with that Q-Tip, now I got rhymes to go
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| Shit bumpin' like a line of blow
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| Tryna grow the lemon cherry, I’m married to this designer smoke
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| This shit deep as a vagina go
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| Deeper than the mines in Minoto
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| Deeper than the audience on Oprah
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| Deeper than the bars I wrote to MF DOOM, Accordion when I was on the sofa
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| So if you see a bitch with me, she a dime one
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| Niggas said they be in their bag, but it’s a broad one
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| Niggas love to sit on their ass when they around one
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| Everybody lookin' for cash, who finna find some?
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| I’ma Jason come out his mask if I was down some
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| Knock his ass out, six seconds into the round one
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| Call of Duty, stockpile weapons until the war come
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| Whole world pushin' my niggas into the forefront
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| Sometimes screenshots hurt, worse than the real ones (The real ones)
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| Move determined, Ruger German, my shooter purgin'
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| My circle tight, like a virgin (Like a virgin)
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| But listen, I feel blessed, no regrets
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| I swear to God, it’s hard to take pics, when you pose a threat (When you pose a
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| threat)
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| Money, power, and respect
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| I wanna play for the Jets or the Mets
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| Instead, I had to invest in pills, coke and crystal meth (Let me holla at you
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| baby)
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| When I was twelve, we held L’s (We held L’s)
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| Talked about what we did for a livin'
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| It turns out, we both do cells (We both do cells)
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| She realized I’m funny, kept laughin' and sayin' stop
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| Well baby what do you call a 'ghini with the top off, that’s a lamb chop
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| (That's a lamb chop)
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| Told her about my guys from the Sandlot
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| Think we trained for cross country, the way we land blocks
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| Honey, run blocks, sirens and gun shots
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| You only get one shot, to make this cream like sun block
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| Baby your voice, is music to my ears, that’s my jam
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| It’s a lot of things I
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| ought to buy you, you know Bam
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| Still keep money in a rubber band
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| This crossfire like my jeweler, a member of the Klan
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| I’m single, but I’m a
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| wanted
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| man, so tell your friend, scram, you got other plans (Other plans)
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| Your ass put P in period, I’m tryna sample your soul
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| I’m just waitin' on the clearance
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| Got dough like a entrance
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| In for meals like an infant
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| 'Til the judge read my sentence
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| Read my sentence |