| You Ain’t Sayin Nothing, Nigga, You Ain’t Sayin Nothing x8
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| I’m the truth motherfucker I ball with Mike Bibby
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| I’m in the Calliope project you want me, then come get me
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| When niggas will jack you, them hoes got gats too
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| These kids walk around with golds and tattoos
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| J Prince, The King of The South, I just kept that bitch going
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| Niggas disrespect me and I make you stop growing
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| Boz he right here, Hot Boy he right here
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| The New No Limit, nigga this is our year
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| We about money, cars, bitches, hoes
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| Kicking out windows and knocking down doors
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| I’m a hustler motherfucker, I can’t work for the man
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| Put them birds in the van, and holla catch me if he can
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| They feeling me, my enemies mean-mug
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| Still walk up in the club and buy the bars up
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| Like What The What What, Get Beat the Fuck Up
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| No Limit In This Bitch, You better shut the fuck up
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| They don’t wanna play with me, they scared, ain’t said nothing
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| We too deep up in the club, we waiting to start stunting
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| Jumping like you crazy, like nigga you can’t fade me
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| Tipsy on that remy, I’m ready to start blazing
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| Like holding the club down, dipping out with cha lady
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| Sprees on my Chevy, they spinning like changed faces
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| Movin through the hood, Choppin like I am racing
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| Boy say «He gone» but show me you can’t hate me
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| Yeah this the year, so niggas just disappear
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| Niggas gonna expect it from me, I’m right chea
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| You drive, I’m right chea, My niggas, we right chea
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| Riding, Might Drop Em, don’t wanna play round here
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| We about money, cars, broads, hoes
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| Kicking out windows and knocking down doors
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| A cup full of remy and a bottle of Mo
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| I light that dro when its time to smoke
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| South West Philly P’s
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| Them sawed off stickers, snatch out ya weave
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| You can’t see me through the tips on the range
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| It ain’t about the money, bitch we got change
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| Gets ya hypnotic, Afficial, we bout it
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| Real niggas up in the club, we ain’t smiling
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| Respect on our shirt, my shoes are P Miller
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| Find us on the block with thugs and drug dealers
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| The cuts on our diamonds is sharp as grease
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| It looks like the lights on our masterpieces
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| My team strong so we ready for whatever
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| Bad chicks wit us like we came here together
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| Later on, I might lace something
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| We in the club, hella deep, but your ass wouldn’t say something
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| Put your hood in the air, represent your city
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| Free C-Murder and wild out with me |