| From the East to the West coast
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| You show me love wherever I go
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| One thing I know is
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| I’m getting dough, I’m on
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| Got them hoes coming, let’s go
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| Shawty say I’m a pimp well I guess so
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| One thing I know is
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| I’m getting dough, I’m on
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| You niggas know who I is, what kind of car I drive
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| Killa California, the door’s commiting suicide
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| Bitches ain’t fucking with you unless you in the newest ride
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| You know me, 5 star nigga, do or die
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| I’m from the home of the scandalists
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| East west north south, niggas get lost in Los Angeles
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| We got the baddest bitches on the north campus
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| Nigga hopping off the transit, straight up inside a phantom
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| Stop at the liquor store, get a swisher hit the door
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| Then hit the hood, ay blood what they hitting for
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| Whole hood tatted up, bandana right side jeans coming out
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| Busters leave when it’s nighttime
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| 15s in the trunk hit me 'fore they see me come
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| Red 24s no need to ask where I’m from
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| Westside home of the purp even 12 year olds put in work
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| West coast got 'em bangin'
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| 31 still banged out shots let 'em rank out
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| Walk through any crip or blood hood with his chain out
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| Grandmomma stay on the shore in the same house
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| Be on the porch, Dre Beats on with my thang out
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| That ain’t a threat but little do you forget
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| I was 20 years old rolling up on nigga’s sets
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| Coming straight up out the jets, impala sitting wet
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| Try me in 'em high lows coming up out the tech
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| Now I’m getting money big Snoop on the texts
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| Andre Young on the bottom of my check
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| Fresh from the fade to the bottom of my checks
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| Matter of fact Chucks, Red cadillac trucks
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| Panamera red 4's peanut butter guts
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| On my Pau Gasol shit hit the block and post up
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| Then gather the crew hit childs and toast up
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| Hoes breaking their neck tryna see me close up
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| 10 million albums sold, I ain’t gotta brag
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| Disrespect my girl or my kids and get a bodybag
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| Ak47 with the sawdy rag, niggas better duck cause it ain’t a paparazzi flash
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| 2011 game banging, y’all copycats
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| How you throwing a stocking cap and they ain’t never cocked it back
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| Nigga copy that, capiche nigga
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| Extended clip got 1 bullet for each nigga
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| Ask nice and I might let you eat nigga
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| Let you smoke, I keep kush in the pete swisher
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| Keep the blunts rolled up, phantom 24'ed up
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| Hop out knockout whole chest froze up
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| I be in the back of the club looking like so what
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| 20 bottles 40 grand pro’ly why she chose us
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| Now she in the Beverly Center with her nose up
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| Pockets 1−0-0−0-0 hold up |