| Make room for the heavyweight villain with foul language
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| Formally known as low-class but now I’m distinguished
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| Hold that, corner to corner no room for foreigners
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| Coroners performing their craft daily
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| There’s a war and it’s morbid
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| Twenty-four and it’s ease to close at his own wake
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| Our chest plates, filled with ice cold hearts that don’t break
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| Respect my g’s, fouls and rejects
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| Respect those bullets bloody bullies battle for respect
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| Any cities up inside of this northeast corridor
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| We sported quarters of raw imported all from Florida
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| Now the whole block’s flooded with cut coke
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| We don’t stop leaving youngins gutted, it’s cut-throat
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| Sometimes I’m rolling dolo in a stolen polo
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| But I’m still true to my crew I’m never going solo
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| All these cold winter nights that keep the ice in my blood
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| I’ll spill the guts out of this bitch and ditch a knife in the mud
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| It’s Pazienza, Coka, goon music listen
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| Stick you for the only pot you got to piss in
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| Vinnie P. put the key in the ignition
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| When we get back lord, we shine and glisten
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| It’s Pazienza, Coka, goon music listen
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| Stick you for the only pot you got to piss in
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| Vinnie P. put the key in the ignition
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| When we get back lord, we shine and glisten
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| Respect my G, ya’ll sound nervous
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| Respect everything that I do or found murdered
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| Y’all servents, y’all blind without purpose
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| Stay high walking with guns without permits
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| Snake bite came in my life with foul serpent
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| Amaryte blind from birth lord, he worthless
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| All of y’all signs of ignorance is earthless
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| All of my mind is viligance and churchless
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| I don’t want to splash Ack ‘cause Allah made him
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| And I don’t want the faggot P.O. |
| to violate him
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| AR-15 big it’ll annihilate him
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| You ain’t ever gonna eat this is starvation
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| Try to sell wolf tickets, feed Allah bacon
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| Try to bite the hand that feeds y’all, violation
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| Pussy boi get spotted like dalmatian
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| Look for God in wrong place so he found Satan
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| It’s the Coka Nos', Louie Dogs, murder music listen
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| Stick you for the only pot you got to piss in
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| Cult leader put the key in the ignition
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| Bottle in my lap, full throttle twisted
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| It’s the Coka Nos', Louie Dogs, murder music listen
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| Stick you for the only pot you got to piss in
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| Cult leader put the key in the ignition
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| Bottle in my lap, full throttle twisted
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| I’m like exploding bullet in a clip
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| Like a rock of crack in a capsule
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| Like a lack to see planets that travel backwards through black holes
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| Run towards conflict, pray for dissipation
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| Guns talk constant, enslaving civilizations
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| So we walk like Egyptian pharaeohs worshiping sun ra
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| Walk up to your window with the barrels and dump shots
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| Pump four in your lung, slumped over in blood
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| Stuck over some crumbs, fucked over and done
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| I teach a crash course in brain surgery
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| So I don’t need no passports to orchestrate murder sprees
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| Show you nothing changed, more than when the casket drop
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| I’ll blow your fucking face off like maskatron
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| Pop you while you’re driving make you crash your car
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| Drop acid, yeah, tell you who to drop the acid on
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| Look what the uzi do, empty pews and anger god
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| Shoot your funeral, tell me who to drop the casket on
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| This is Slaine homie goon, chasing goon music listen
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| This is the only pot I ever had to piss in
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| The odds against me Imma fight with my own hands
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| These are the words I’ve been writing as a grown man
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| This is Slaine homie goon, chasing goon music listen
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| This is the only pot I ever had to piss in
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| The odds against me Imma fight with my own hands
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| These are the words I’ve been writing as a grown man |