| Yeah, one two, Pack Pistol Pazzy
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| Heavy Metal Kings, Billy Idol, listen
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| Trust me money, you don’t wanna get into a tussle
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| He murdered over nothing and I did it on a muscle
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| We need to be discussing how to hit another hustle
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| The gun is too big to ever fit into the duffle
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| This ain’t nothing new ahky, this is how we do things
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| And I’ll be swinging Epps like I was listening to 2 Chainz
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| A great white shark on top of the fucking food chain
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| The accu-bomb range, bullets longer than a shoestring
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| You talking to a maniac who started on the bottom tier
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| Cut so many people you would think I had a barber chair
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| Rob a rich motherfucker quicker than ObamaCare
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| (???) front of yard in a driver chair
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| Asked me for a burro so I gave him a taste
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| And a blickie had it pussy getting sprayed in his face
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| The AK have his body leaning like an endo
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| He see a full eclipse cause I gave him the extendo
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| One gun
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| Line 'em up!
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| Two gun
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| Line 'em up!
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| AR-15, infrared beam
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| Line 'em up!
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| One gun
|
| Line 'em up!
|
| Two gun
|
| Line 'em up!
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| Infrared beam, AR-15
|
| Line 'em up!
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| The assault of the goons, walking to my author of doom
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| An awesome assortment of mooks and all because of the shrooms
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| My mindframe is distorted and odd
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| Like Omar Suarez in the car bent, offering jobs
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| Extorted the mob, got the whole planet’s cornered and robbed
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| Got a pistol in your mouth like it’s corn on the cob
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| Spit murder, purple date promos
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| And live forever like a Cliff Burton bass solo
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| Heavy Metal Kings, Despicable Me
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| Step out of first class Air France dipped in Supreme
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| Gucci chain, used medallion and the fistful of green
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| My angels of death dressed like pistols with beams
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| Rambo knives, my rhymes be dipped in fatigues
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| Tour the world with my goons, we’re an invincible team
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| My hitters are mean, killers and guerillas that scheme
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| Killing machines ready to die by living the dream |