| «Fly on the wings of the wind
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| To the homeland, our home song
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| Where we sang freely loving
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| Where me and you felt so freely»
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| Warren G. top dog
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| Patrolling the beach
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| Riggers say they hard as bricks
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| But they soft as a peach
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| Climbin the G of all G’s
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| Please
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| I come blowin through like the breeze
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| Sitting on the threes
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| Post it coast it and mash it down
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| Pacific coast in the bomb chrome rims
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| Black on black Yukon
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| With nuts hangin from the city
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| Where the bangers be bangin
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| It don’t seem like shit is changin
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| I hollered at a homey the other day
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| G’d up at the park
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| Sippin Alisay
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| One of the homies took a beatin
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| So now we’ll start to be a gang
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| Checkin at the meetin
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| Life cycles repeatin
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| It’s just another sunset fall and see
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| I can hear the homies that pass
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| Calling me
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| And you know what I discover
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| What they keep sayin
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| Keep your mind and your money
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| Motherfuckers
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| And shake busters
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| Uletaj na kryl’jach vetra
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| Ty V kraj rodnoj, rodnaja pesnya nasha
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| Tuda gde my lubya svobodno peli
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| Gde bylo tak privol’no nam s toboju
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| Have you ever sold millions
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| But yet you niggers persist to talk shit
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| Get off my dick
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| Ya never catch me slippin
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| Rollin with the heat
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| Slap the clippin
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| I never thought the world
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| Would start trippin
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| My life’s a though
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| Hit the crypto
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| Blow the whistle
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| They think I bang
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| So I pack a pistol
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| Warren to the G. is a G
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| I don’t fuck with you nigga
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| So don’t fuck with me
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| Let’s ride to the East Side
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| Slide like a fo
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| I pack a 44
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| When I’m steppin out dough
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| To the bang to the boogie
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| If I speak then I spoke
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| Warren G. you do it every time
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| Till ya low
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| Get the party lit
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| Like blazin smoke
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| The East Side of the beach
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| West side of the coast
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| You know the niggers that arrive
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| With hogs
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| Attack dogs
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| To say niggers are down to die
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| With motherfucker
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| Uletaj na kryl’jach vatra
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| Ty why kraj rodnoj, rodnaja pesnma nasa
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| Tuda gde my lebja svobodno peli
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| Gde bylo tak privol’no nam s’toboju
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| Who’s the man
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| I’ve been from London to Japan
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| Stomp land to land
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| And to the Egyptian sands
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| You can’t check me
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| Disrespect me
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| Ya mock me up
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| With the bass bumping out my truck
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| And all these police tryin to lock me up
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| Money rules the world
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| And I made the loot
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| So don’t make me shoot
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| Cause trying to match’ll get you down
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| Every time
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| I ain’t trying to hurt nobody
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| But I’m down for mine
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| Biatch
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| Money over power
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| Power over money
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| Money over power
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| Power over money
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| Money over power
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| Power over money
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| Money over power
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| Power over money
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| Money over power
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| Biatch biatch
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| Uletaj na kryl’jach vatra
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| Ty why kraj rodnoj, rodnaja pesnma nasa
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| Tuda gde my lebja svobodno peli
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| Gde bylo tak privol’no nam s’toboju
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| Uletaj na kryl’jach vatra
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| Ty why kraj rodnoj, rodnaja pesnma nasa
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| Tuda gde my lebja svobodno peli
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| Gde bylo tak privol’no nam s’toboju |