| Restraint!
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| Artilerry motherfucker, legit balling bitch but don’t get it twisted
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| Ain’t no hoes over here
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| Yeah, we got guns nigga, aimed at all you hating bitches
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| From K-Town to the Manor, Holy City to the Wild Hundreds
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| The war is on, and all my killers is riding
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| Todd Nitty, what you got for these hoes (click…clock…blast)
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| (Todd Nitty)
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| I got that 9 double M Glock, with the infrared beam dot
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| Aiming at your knot, making your heart stop
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| Yelling out «Fuck Tha Po» who some call it 5−0
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| Better look out for when they pull that kick door
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| Nothing but gangstas, thats all who I hang with
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| Slanging them thangs with, came up in the game with
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| The fucking hood rats, because them some broke hoes
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| Me get a rich bitch and stick her for her dough
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| The Manor in that K-Town, thats how we put it down
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| Letting off fifty rounds, thats how our shit sound
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| Artillery up the ass, scullies and ski masks
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| 9's and bubble masks, gunning at your ass
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| Motherfucking street thugs, legit ballers
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| Money and the power, moving that flour
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| Taking no shorts and taking no losses
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| Hauling niggas asses off in coffins with that.
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| Hook
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| One, two, three, 45.'s
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| Six, seven, eight, nine milli-meter
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| Ten, eleven, twelve gauge pump nigga (4x)
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| A nigga riding with stealers, hustlers, killers all my life
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| Legit Ballers bitch, don’t even try to fuck with us gangsta’s
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| Because we some mobstas
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| You come with that bullshit, then pussy I’ll pop ya'
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| See it’s that nigga Todd Nitty, that be squeezing triggers like bitches
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| Titties
|
| Who is it, the most left on nigga, they crept on nigga, with that teflon nigga
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| And it went BLOW! |
| BLOW! |
| body bag that bitch
|
| Sent his ass to the morgue with the rest of them snitches
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| I heat 'em up like a motherfucking Newport
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| Left his ass with more holes than a golf course
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| What you thought boy, I’m from that 9th Ward
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| Where them stories are true about them Manor boys
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| How we leaving 'em, bleedin' and crawling on the ground
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| Like he’s a dead nigga now
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| Hook
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| I got that love for my nigga Twist, for aid and assistance
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| He told me holsters, caught him up in some bullshit
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| Don’t even trips though, I’m heading in your route
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| Soon as I roll up, we puttin' they lights out
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| Poppin' a clip in, with one in the chamber
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| (Twista)
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| Finna' ride on a stranger, put the hoes life in danger
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| (Todd Nitty)
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| Started letting off hollows, straight through they car door
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| (Twista)
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| I’m a G from Chicago, pull the game weightless where I go
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| (Todd Nitty)
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| Bustin' pistols with laser injects, putting holes in they Avarex
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| (Twista)
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| Going straight through your tailored vests, now it’s you or your neighbor next
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| (Todd Nitty)
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| Now we got your boy tied up, to the hideout we ride up
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| (Twista)
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| They gonna show us the stash-pot, with the little handles side up
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| (Todd Nitty)
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| Took the money and lello, and thats hwo the day goes
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| (Twista)
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| Get the bankroll, gotta gank hoes, and I got the 44
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| Time to leave finna' go
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| Hit 'em with that…
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| Hook |