| Aiyyo, y’all niggas take too long wrapping them up in duct tape
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| Me, I just make sure they stomp like crush grapes
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| I make the hardest shed a tear
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| Give 'em a gun, if I had two right here
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| Two over there, fuck playin' fair!
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| Y’all niggas like loose-leaf paper, easy to tear
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| Drag just burn that up and get it outta here
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| Y’all think y’all goin' from heaven to hell?
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| Y’all ain’t goin' nowhere
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| But in the same town on the same dirty ground
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| And I don’t care how you livin' it up
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| I even got dead niggas shiverin' up
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| You can bet I come diggin' you up
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| Them niggas bust guns just to make niggas run by
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| Me? |
| I squeeze mine with one eye and one closed and focus
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| The one open is at the tip of the nose
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| When it blows, y’all so-called-pimps die hoes
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| Don’t bite rhymes or flows, just air mark
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| Snap with a finger, have y’all wanted in dead park
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| Anything that’s dealin' with dough, we got that
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| Cock back, hold in position for combat
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| Stand clear, all y’all cowards have been warned
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| Duck, nigga, run for your life, we airborne
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| Anything that’s dealin' with dough, we got that
|
| Cock back, hold in position for combat
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| Stand clear, all y’all cowards have been warned
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| Duck, nigga, run for your life, we airborne
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| Yo, yo, aiyyo, who the fuck you think spit mean?
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| Same bitch that tried to put Irv Gotti teams
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| Since I had a snotty scream
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| Was taught to die in a red beam
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| Never ask when I need cash
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| I’m a customer, I snatch your cream
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| Soldier, cross-over, knock on my door
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| Wit' Jahovah, huh, know the population’s over
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| I’m causing early retirements
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| Cuz you blast last when I’m firing
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| Dyin' in the blood you lyin' in
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| Went from the full house to the raw house
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| To niggas tryin' to rip my draws out
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| Try it now, nigga, blow your jaw out
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| You don’t want my gun to go pow-pow
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| Well, I’mma have your face the same color
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| As a tongue of a chow-chow, nigga
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| These ain’t water pistols- they shoot many missles
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| And when I set 'em off, they scar your bones to the grissle
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| Only I knew how it was gonna come
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| Put up in your baby-mom, for your only son
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| I’m takin' e’eryone
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| Anything that’s dealin' with dough, we got that
|
| Cock back, hold in position for combat
|
| Stand clear, all y’all cowards have been warned
|
| Duck, nigga, run for your life, we airborne
|
| Anything that’s dealin' with dough, we got that
|
| Cock back, hold in position for combat
|
| Stand clear, all y’all cowards have been warned
|
| Duck, nigga, run for your life, we airborne
|
| Uh, I’m psychologically fucked up, know the truth
|
| See, I’s sick, throwin' up Henny and? |
| Gook?
|
| POOF! |
| Me gone, I pray for the death of my mother
|
| Until I woked up and hugged her, and told her that I loved her
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| Sick sin, my ink pen stay in the ring
|
| Crown me king, I spit through the eyes of a fiend
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| Golden ice, I stole for the love of my wife
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| Then she ran out and dumped me, and po-po pump me
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| Came home, of course as the king of my throne
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| Back to Roley’s, back to smokin' bones with coley
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| My demo was better than a lot of y’all records
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| Bed rocked your ass, calm down, so let the gun go
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| I murdered some quick for dough
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| Hit 'em up fast, watched them die extra slow
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| I lock shop when I come through with the blue tops
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| Smokin' a oo-whop, with all Glocks cocked
|
| Anything that’s dealin' with dough, we got that
|
| Cock back, hold in position for combat
|
| Stand clear, all y’all cowards have been warned
|
| Duck, nigga, run for your life, we airborne
|
| Anything that’s dealin' with dough, we got that
|
| Cock back, hold in position for combat
|
| Stand clear, all y’all cowards have been warned
|
| Duck, nigga, run for your life, we airborne
|
| Anything that’s dealin' with dough, we got that
|
| Cock back, hold in position for combat
|
| Stand clear, all y’all cowards have been warned
|
| Duck, nigga, run for your life, we airborne
|
| Anything that’s dealin' with dough, we got that
|
| Cock back, hold in position for combat
|
| Stand clear, all y’all cowards have been warned
|
| Duck, nigga, run for your life, we airborne
|
| See now, there it go
|
| Y’all got it
|
| The East Coast West Coast collabo
|
| Warren G doin' it with my niggas from The Ruff Ryders
|
| Eve, my nigga Drag-On
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| Yeah, that’s how we doin' it, like that for y’all
|
| In the '99 |