| Niggas don’t really want it, just talkin out the side of they neck
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| How many gangsters you know, ain’t scared of death
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| That’s why I, ride with tecs, soon as I pull 'em out
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| Breathe easy nigga they tryin to get them bullets out
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| It was all good a week ago, you was callin shots in the hood
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| Bitch now you sold rock in the hood
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| Used to be a gang leader, now your gang need ya
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| But no more rocks or dope spots in the hood
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| Ghost town, niggas won’t even walk in your hood
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| I want respect like when niggas is talkin to Suge
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| You cats gon' get with that, or get with the +Mac+
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| And I ain’t talkin 'bout Beans, talkin 'bout this gat
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| The kid still a hundred miles and runnin
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| Niggas smoke 10 boxes of Newports, when they know I’m comin
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| And fuck MTV, I live in The Real World
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| Call my guns R. Kelly, they’ll touch your lil' girl, cause
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| Layin with dogs, you gon' wake up with fleas
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| Fuckin with rats, you’ll never get yo' cheese
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| You know J cats, like to sell you dreams
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| And a snake gon' scheme (and a killa will do anything)
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| It’s a done deal, Seth’s back, makin it hot
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| No questions, I’m takin my spot
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| Project walls, hoods and blocks, Get Low, we hard to stop
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| JT, and the Game is hot
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| It’s so necessary, these dudes are so scary
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| When I cruise through Bentley Coupe that’s cherry
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| Tailored suits and gators, man, laughin at these haters
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| Man, show me the money then, pay me man
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| It’s a new day, same team, I’m still the ghost
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| Big crib, jet skis and boats, listen close take notes
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| Mink coats and diamond clusters
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| West coast we nothin but hustlers
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| We grimy and gritty, cool like dat, old school fools
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| Willy Ness throwbacks, we send tricks to the nearest track
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| Who you know that’s as real as that?
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| I pimp this game like Goldie the Mac, holla back |