| At the table sayin' a prayer holdin' hands
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| And we got two stolen Benz everything’s according to plans
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| If anybody in the fam gets pinched
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| Don’t worry 'bout your kids control your wench
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| Don’t worry 'bout the money it’s gon' get rinsed
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| And don’t worry 'bout me I won’t approach the bench
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| Now let’s roll out and get that paper retho
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| It might look easy but it’s not sweet though
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| It’s either do this shit now or don’t eat yo
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| This is real life this ain’t no TV show
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| Word up- backed out
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| With the macs out
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| 'Nuff clips to shoot four duffels full of loot
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| 22 Dilinger a piece for the boot
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| Couple of bombs
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| Remote for the alarms
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| Outside still runnin' two big black 1500s
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| Me and Styles wasn’t blunted
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| Must be your point to deal with money
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| Even though I was nervous somehow it was still funny
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| I hopped in one son hopped in the other
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| Word to mother both trucks burn rubber
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| Figure we could blanff with a mil or two
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| In a tentacle
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| I pulled up behind chemical
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| Doors locked Styles left the other one
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| Down four blocks it’s on now ready or not
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| Synchronize your watch feed time to cops
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| Get the rocks out the safety deposit box
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| Kisses here and up all the guards on watch
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| And the first thing I grab honey in the fotch
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| Split for nothing
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| You get the same you hit the button
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| Before we hit the safe
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| Where’s the videotape
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| Gotta look it in the face- forget it
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| I want your eyelids in the bag got your seven digits
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| Money and death- what you pick?
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| And don’t be a prick your life is worth more than chips
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| Money is paper and the banks built bricks
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| All of a sudden I heard a different gun’s clip
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| I couldn’t be hit
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| Cuz I didn’t feel shit
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| So I duck into cover
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| Yell for my brother
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| I yell yo
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| Then I yell yo back
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| You can bounce now dog I filled up two sacks
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| Here’s the dough keys to the truck go get in it
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| Cuz time is our life and we ain’t got a minute
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| I looked outside and I saw the Lieutenant
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| And I thought to myself, «Damn, Styles is finished!»
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| We ain’t come this far for this shit to happen
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| Damn, nigga better get the Captain
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| Heard six shots 'bout three hit the Captain
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| Heard a few more but by then they attacked him
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| Area surrounded parking lot packed in
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| Just knocked my man off now I was trapped in
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| But you know I’m going out in a blast
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| With this last pineapple like they use in M*A*S*H
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| And as soon as enough cops’ve filled up the room
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| I pull the pin |