| Get Low Records motherfucker
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| Bringin the best to the table
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| Bluechip, Nina B,, what it is
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| JT Get Low motherfucker that’s what it is motherfucker
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| Yeah, who fuckin with us nigga
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| Now (what goes around comes around)
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| I’m puttin this clique up nigga against all you niggas
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| Now get it right
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| Hey yo, this is where I see me in this game
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| Benz Coupe, Maserati, plus I got your bitch all in the Range
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| And y’all niggas ain’t gon' do shit, soon as your crew spit
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| My tool spit, metal to your side, watch you lose hips
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| And I ain’t want to take it there but fuck it we can bang
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| My Cali headbusters’ll show you how to throw them things
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| I’m too connected like John Gotti and Nino
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| For a small fee they find your body wreakin out in Reno
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| I know the niggas that sell weight, and niggas that stick the niggas
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| That sell weight, hammer close behind me like when you tailgate
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| I know you a snitch, I can see it in your eyes
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| Shackled up, D.O.C.'s, all my niggas on that ride
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| You can, stunt if you wanna, Chip is a gunner
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| Been reignin since ninety-six now it’s time for the thunder
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| In your mind you can blame me but open your mouth and name me
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| I’m runnin you out of office you’re softer than Bush and Cheney
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| Go 'head, and try to play me I do you like I was Amy Fisher
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| Smokin a Swisher like I wish a bitch would
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| Listen and use your vision cause livin in this — hood
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| And sinnin in your division you think it’s all — good
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| Got niggas on death row and it ain’t about Suge
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| Niggas that stay home they scared to come out shook
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| Mothers with five kids and all of 'em got took
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| It’s right in these niggas face, but they just will not look
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| I’m tired, of the B.S. |
| I’m cheatin some rejects
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| Even though we make the best of what little respect, we get
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| This is the life, that was given to me
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| A rich-ass bitch that’s what I’m fittin to be
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| Brooklyn to Bangkok I’m beggin to be
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| And don’t nobody write, what I’m spittin but me
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| Nina B
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| We 'bout to blow this bitch
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| Niggas work hard in the game so they notice this, what
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| We 'bout to blow this bitch
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| Niggas work hard in the game so they notice this, what
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| Underground with it, poppin collars now
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| Bust yo' shit nigga, put them guns down
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| Put yo' knuckles up, catch you slippin dawg
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| That’s how we do it independent now we 'bout to ball
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| For years niggas sold me dreams that got me gassed
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| Made me want to get revenge or get the hockey mask
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| Got beef? |
| Yo the burner’s in the lobby stashed
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| Get your crew if you want, all them niggas is probably ass
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| I take the long way, fuck takin the shortcut
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| Now we got corporate sponsorships wrappin our tour bus
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| A quick 32, yo them shits is like warmups
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| It ain’t coincidental in the hood we was born tough
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| You chump or get chumped, punk or get punked
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| Save your lil' craps homey, fuck it get drunk
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| Was one at the top, but now I’m back at the bottom
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| Most 'em hate to spit with me cause when I rap I surprise 'em
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| Shit is real, that’s why I stay strapped with a condom
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| I keep 31 flavors just like Baskin & Robbins
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| I’m here now, y’all supposed to be stressed, scared to death
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| That you gonna be next, record labels, promote the rejects
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| While starvin artists is closest to sets
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| And certain niggas duckin me because they owe me a check
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| I spit more heat, than a bowl of chili, y’all niggas know the deally
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| So turn the music up and roll a Philly
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| Yeah, roll the Philly or Swisher Sweet
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| And I ain’t trippin while you niggas just stand on your feet
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| Figgaro done walked in the building, it’s time to expand
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| Comin with hundreds of grands and hundreds of plans
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| You see this Black Wall Street is for the po' broke and hongry
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| None of my niggas on the corner never be lonely
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| Stuck in the gutter mayne, coke packs like Tony
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| Bricks and pounds of weed half the city owe me
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| My shipment too big, frontin out the homies
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| I ain’t even trippin mayne my pockets never lonely
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| Benjamin Franklins and Grants stick together like
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| Boys in tough weather makin noise forever, ahhhh
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| Yeah mayne, it’s real shit nigga and we independent nigga
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| Fuck what’chu heard dawg, independent is where the money is at nigga
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| Fuck all your major labels nigga, that’s what it is
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| JT the Bigga Figga, Nina B |