| They say we look like we pushin' work
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| How I just push up on every turf
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| Swoop my niggs, twist kush in every blunt
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| It ain’t fair, so I give away the crumbs
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| That’s a zip or two, every time I come around
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| I’m a real playa fuckin' off a 100 thou
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| Cause we real, 30 shots up in the crowd
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| So sick, even make the haters proud
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| We the shit, clap you if ya gettin' loud
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| Feel like the 80's babies time to hold it down
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| Got my gun, shootin' for the damn stars
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| Hit the streets, & try to kick us out tomorrow
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| It’s the future, in the hood it’s stupid hard
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| See the block, dope boys everywhere
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| Damn it’s hot, I don’t think I ever cared
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| Me & Amp, finna lock another year
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| Yeah, dopegame baby, cocaine crazy
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| In the traphouse with the chop & ya lady
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| Yeah, we came a long way from standin on the block
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| In the kitchen whippin rock, to sittin in the drop
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| Coonin on you niggas, yeah the block stockbroker
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| Devilz rejectz it’s the mobb bitch we takin over
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| I’m a boss & it’s family first
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| If it’s beef we hit ya family first, mothafucka
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| I count money, while you watchin' your girlfriend
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| Look in through my sons eyes watchin' the world spin
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| My moms died, my whole world ended
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| Smack my girl every night, cause I’m tormented
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| I wanted to be a rapper, I sold my first piece of crack
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| Nigga I’m a trapper drug dealer stuck in the Ak
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| Most niggas actors, faint if they see a Mac
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| Nigga just got life, my cousin ain’t comin back
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| I’m lookin at life, through Cardier lenses
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| You can have my soul, just give me back my friends
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| I thought when the money came that I’ll be happy
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| But the money changed how the world thought about my family
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| I went from Anthony, to a Devilz Reject
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| In the ghetto with my metal, lookin' for the detects
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| I ride around, with 3 tecs
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| Tryna knock a nigga down, hopin' I don’t be next
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| Listen, all bite no bark doggie
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| Light some catpiss up get the car foggy
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| Up high in the sky blowin' clouds out
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| Chicks cheerleadin' like we holdin' tryouts
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| That G shit that’s what them guys 'bout
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| Cannons under the cusions of the couches at my hideout
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| Money hidden in the mattress, cakes in the oven
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| Bakin' with the timer, just wait for the buzzer
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| Used to be a grinder bundle full of dubba dubbas
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| Back in the days my uncle & them called em hubbas
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| Mid 90's, we was in the hood burnin' rubber
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| You was in the house watchin' New York undercover
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| When them shots rang out you put your head undercover
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| If you get caught up you’d probably tell the feds on a brotha
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| I was brought up, to be about my bread mothafucka
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| Art of a gunslinger goin' hard at my hustle
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| Yeah, dopegame baby, cocaine crazy
|
| In the traphouse with the chop & ya lady
|
| Yeah, we came a long way from standin on the block
|
| In the kitchen whippin rock, to sittin in the drop
|
| Coonin on you niggas, yeah the block stockbroker
|
| Devilz rejectz it’s the mobb bitch we takin over
|
| I’m a boss & it’s family first
|
| If it’s beef we hit ya family first, mothafucka |