| We came to take you higher
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| And higher, and higher, flight
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| Ninja Turtle marijuana, cut it down
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| Leonardo’s katanas, we in town
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| Found with hoes around us, dirty rotten scoundrels
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| Twisting up seedless quarter-pounders
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| Yeah I party, bitch never seen a flounder
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| She working at the Gap folding jeans on the counter
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| Niggas lounging, wood panels on the wall
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| Like the inside of them late 70's housing
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| Nigga, I’m Mitchell and Ness, vintage flow
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| OG, no retro, grab a nugget
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| Pack a bowl, that’s Super Tecmo
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| Chivel es dough, shut the door bitch, let’s go
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| In my new car, going like I’m too far
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| Money show truly who you are
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| Whether you a star or a shooting star, a shooting star
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| So you want to spar with a southpaw, get your jaw draw
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| I got a bitch like the black Zsa Zsa Gabor
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| And she could pull a chick faster than I could pull
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| In Acapulco, pouring shots of tequila
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| She bought her friend, I brought Curren$y, he bought the reefer
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| What up Spitta? |
| We buzzing like a transmitter
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| These niggas bitter, slipping like a transmission
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| I’m Brita, spring water with the flow
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| Break the bank like it’s brittle, brush money like bristles
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| Official, a root canal, bicuspid
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| I’m on the cusp of these bucks, not a husband
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| But I’m in love with the money fuckin' lusting
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| Long like the hair of Rumpelstiltskin, I’m Teddy Ruxpin
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| Hold my grizzly, Willie gets busy
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| The fly Jet Life insure Met Life, right?
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| Hot Spitta with me, never a Dull Moment |