| I was brought up in the heart of the city
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| Drinking old gold cold outta my momma’s titty
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| And the living wasn’t pretty
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| But I learned how to get it
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| Got a three bag deal for 50
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| Add another for 60
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| Do the math g, that’s one for free
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| I guarantee them other niggas ain’t got prices like me
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| And you can catch me on the corner
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| Of 118th and Antwerp with that work
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| But proceed with caution
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| Make sure you don’t come over here flossing
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| Leave the Bimmer at home and bring the Brougham
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| They aim for the dome
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| And people say I’m grown for my living
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| But I bless the little children and all the single women
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| And I don’t gangbang, but I stick with my clique
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| And the niggas wanna trip, they can trip
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| I keep the full clip
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| It’s just another day in LA
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| Only God can judge me anyway, hey
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| I sure hate when they say we ain’t worth it
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| I don’t love my occupation but it’s working
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| It’s feeding my son
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| Even though sometimes I’m on the run
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| When them niggas get to playin' with guns
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| I got two strikes, I’m looking on a third
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| Because when you charge 12.5 for a bird
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| The word gets out
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| And niggas try to run up in your house
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| That’s when I bring the Mossberg out
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| And get to bustin'
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| And now you screaming, shaking, and cussing
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| I guess he didn’t know who he was fucking with
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| I ain’t a tough guy
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| But boy to get mine
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| You best be ready for the fight of your life
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| Cause on child support day
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| And people don’t pay, then I can’t pay
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| Nigga you gonna pay
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| And I don’t give a damn what those church folks say
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| Only God can judge me anyway, hey |