| Hey what’s happening, this Rick D baby
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| You ain’t think we was gon let you motherfuckers rest huh
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| It’s time to wake up baby, the assholes is here
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| I heard some niggas in the rap game, hollin' out plex
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| Speaking on my name, like they ass won’t get wrecked
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| Letting they nuts hang, cause I’ve been gone for a sec
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| Bitch nigga ass on, I’m about to bring plex
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| It’s war, so I’m bout to get to spitting on bitches
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| I’ll leave the weapon on the flo', so I’m shitting on bitches
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| I heard some niggas wasn’t able, to keep they tongue in they mouth
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| So I’m bout to put 'em in a lock, and drag they ass through the South
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| T-Ray and all them kids, who be thinking they rich
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| Here go your second of the fame, but either way you a bitch
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| You got a problem and you know it, ain’t no stopping me dog
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| That go for each and every one of y’all, who knocking me dog
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| Better check my stats ol' nigga, I could end your career
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| I’m ready for drama with your click, in any time of the year
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| All the way to 50 Cent and Banks, I ain’t born today
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| Better check yourself, everytime you speak a Asshole’s name
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| And if the click side with ya, it don’t really matter
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| I got a hundred and fifty assholes, that’s killing the chatter
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| I promise we rawer, a hundred percent than most of these rappers
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| And please don’t try me cause I’m bound to make your bitch ass a factor
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| It’s war, niggas better get they mind right
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| 'Fore I aim my highlight, and fuck off ya eyesight
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| It’s war, niggas better know the funk coming
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| 'Fore I run up in your house, and duct tape your woman
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| 64 slugs, dead in your car
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| Blucka-boo-blucka, recognize who we are
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| We ghetto superstars
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| And y’all motherfuckers, done took it too far
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| Recognize G’s when we in your face, put it down like it go
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| Ahead of the footrace, Corleone on the mash hoe
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| I’ll take over your turf, and place real G’s on it
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| Got a hot nine for sale, but don’t nobody want it
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| I put three bodies on it, when I was tipping and flossing
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| Had to take another six month break, from filling up coffins
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| It’s often that niggas get lost, for dipping in my sauce
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| You gotta pay the cost to the Boss, with the Nina Ross
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| Plex is when you fucking with Trae, and the S. K
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| You got AK’s and HK’s, in your face all day
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| Bitch, war’s with big niggas when the streets got plex wit ya
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| Can’t let a certain type of nigga, try to get next to ya
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| I put this sticking to ya, so nigga better gaurd they ribs
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| Or I’m quick to pull a kickdo', so just gaurd your cribs
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| All this beef that you talking, you can squash the drama
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| A.B.N. |
| done pulled up, it’s time to start the trauma
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| Why these niggas running to they cars, to get they guns
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| Red beam and teflons, aiming at they lungs
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| Everybody ready for beef, until the war pop off
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| We ain’t playing down here, in the Dirty South
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| Niggas be getting slid, and put on they back
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| W.G. bring hats, making niggas back-back
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| Niggas better duck quick, when the K start busting
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| Or South Klique get to rushing, ain’t no time for discussion
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| See I click quick bitch nigga, I’m ready for war
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| An asshole named Lil' B, is who I are
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| So you can strap your laces, and put 'em up
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| I got hands that’ll drop niggas, right where they stand up
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| Think I’m playing, ask about that nigga that ran up
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| 'Fore I dropped him, Boss was thumping them thangs up out the truck
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| What the fuck was you thinking, my click be reigning yelling Slow Loud And
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| Bangin'
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| Leaving bitch niggas stanking, rich kids ain’t banking
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| Trying to ride on guerillas, that’ll bust and be shanking
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| I’m always riding with my cause, what the fuck you drinking
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| 24/7 I be creeping, representing the South
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| Niggas think it’s a game, until I’m creeping with the sawed off
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| I hit a nigga with the K, and left his insides out
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| Nigga you know it’s Jay’Ton, bitch you know what I’m bout
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| I’m digging ditches for niggas, that’s steady owing me riches
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| I keep it real with my niggas, it’s money over them bitches
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| And I’m a Southwest nigga, plus my click roll thick
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| I greet a nigga with the heat, and chunk his ass to my pit
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| And let genocide shake your ass down, like a cat that’s stray
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| Assholes we don’t play, repping blue over grey
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| You never seen a block jump, but it’s gon jump today
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| You might as well call me Ike, from the way that I spray |