| 'Bout mine
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| Y’all know how we do it
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| Yeah ('bout mine)
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| This is for them soldiers (keep it goin')
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| All day, everyday (yeah yeah yeah)
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| I’ve got so much trouble on my mind
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| Refuse to lose
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| I got my windows seedy, county line’s still on
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| Now what the hell is goin' on?
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| This nigga been around the world and back
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| And it’s a lesson to be learned in that
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| A lot of paper to be earned in that
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| But I still couldn’t discern the fact
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| That the life ain’t gotta be like that
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| So hold it down
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| (On top of mine)
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| Better be about it, or you’ll see about it
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| (Gonna keep it on)
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| I L-I-V-E about it
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| S-I-N-G about it
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| (Who could be with me?)
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| Wouldn’t be without it
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| When I think about it, who gon' be down?
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| (Who will be down?)
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| You better be about it, or you’ll see about it
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| (Don't get no more)
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| I L-I-V-E about it
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| S-I-N-G about it
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| (I'm sick of all you haters when I’m comin' 'round)
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| Where would I be without it?
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| When I think about holdin' it down
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| (Gotta hold it down)
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| Oh, when I was young in my neighborhood
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| I sold straps cuz the paper’s good
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| (So I guess you understand me nigga)
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| We let them ends get bigger
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| It’s always somethin' wrong with the picture
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| That’s when it hits ya
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| Seventeen years old, ain’t no need to be rollin'
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| In a big body Benz that’s stolen
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| All my knuckleheads holla if ya hear me now
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| The grind is somethin' that you gotta stay real about
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| I doubt I’d change a thing about my life, except these haters
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| I’d take 'em baby, two at a time, with lefts and rights
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| And won’t get tired 'til we all ball, causin' a riot
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| Can’t even see no peace and quiet
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| So I decided misery I’ll deal with myself
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| Ain’t no need for me to be involved with nobody else
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| I’ll chase my wealth across these continents
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| Why these fake mothafuckas wanna get with this?
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| Bitch nigga, be 'bout it
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| Now who be lettin' them heads loose, aimin' off the roof
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| It’s the new millennium and I still ain’t feelin' 'em
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| I’m Y2-AK, ready, hands steady
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| Shame on you niggas, how we came on you niggas
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| Shoulda pulled the heat out and flamed all you niggas
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| To the clique I’m dedicated, 'bout, blunted and faded
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| Bitch please
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| Ask a nigga, squeeze the young G
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| Situation turned drastic, I’m pullin' out plastic
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| So bring the beat cuz I’m a bastard
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| Barely breathing, but leave the body in plastic
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| Blaze the broccoli on the roof of murderin' street
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| Psychotic, leave the mic, it’s idiotic
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| Bring ya heat if you 'bout it
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| Watch 'em inhale butane and spit hot flames
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| Thug, so I’m stayin' heated
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| But fuck the trouble that it’s caused
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| We part insane, mentally
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| With a urge to splurge a piece of my poison
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| To innocent citizens
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| Violent millitants, check the currency on my pistol for them
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| Decided we out
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| Repeat 1 to fade |