| Hey Sosa, let’s get this straight now.
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| I never fucked anybody over in my life didn’t have it coming to them.
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| You got that?
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| All I have in this world is my balls and my word and I don’t break them for no
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| one.
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| Do you understand?
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| Blackbird is gone and sometimes I wanna die
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| Just so I can kick it with my homie, tell me why
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| I can be suicidal though I got my moms to think about
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| I keep in focused mind for my homies I’m lookin' out
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| Keep the chopper in the cuts and a pistol in my nuts
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| If confronted never stutter this is west twompsta!
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| Hit it up and put it down although I love I hate my town
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| I love my homies but I hate these phonies turning shit around
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| Switching up and talkin' to pigs makin' this shit gone strange
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| And now you targeted outsiders while us riders doin' things
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| How’s it feel to be left in the dust dig your grave shady foes
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| heard that norte sidin' on the radio
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| I’m locked up in that Yoc life, adversaries wish me dead
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| I’m still crackin' liquor caps, strapped in a skylark rippin' tread
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| Will I live through that Yoc life, is the gun-sight on my head? |
| I’m packin' lead snacks for them scraps, pumpin' my wig back flauntin' red
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| I ain’t known for shootin' craps but I’m known for shootin' scraps
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| With an everlastin' passion blastin' puttin 'em on their backs
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| Forever ridin' with the northerners on these southside foreigners
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| Leavin' 'em dead soaked in red got a pick up for the coroner
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| I admit a dirty life I lead jampacked with dirty deeds
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| Only things I truly care about is family and homiez
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| Makin' g’s sounds appealin' but that money comes and goes
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| So I stick close to my homiez and quick to talk shit to these hoes
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| When my thoughts are in a flicker I wash my brains out with malt liquor
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| Olde e bless me with the strength and vigor to keep me in the picture
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| Cause these rivals tryin' to box me up and five-o's tryin' to lock me up
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| Tryin' to get me stuck in a cell washed up like Snoop whether or not that block
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| we bucked
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| Gotta be on my p’s and q’s never give pigs a reason to
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| Rush up in the house with a warrant, think deep don’t believe the news
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| That’s the way I’m livin' daily struggle to keep my freedom |
| For the funk got a pet named clip hollow-tips I feed 'em enemies come meet 'em
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| I’m locked up in that Yoc life, adversaries wish me dead
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| I’m still crackin' liquor caps, strapped in a skylark rippin' tread
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| Will I live through that Yoc life, is the gun-sight on my head?
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| I’m packin' lead snacks for them scraps, pumpin' my wig back flauntin' red
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| We tried to tell you motherfuckers back in '94
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| We keep our pistols cocked up in the Yoc ready for war
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| We get the loaded clips and dump em in the sewer side
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| That’s how it is living a life of gats and rivals
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| We tried to tell you mother fuckers back in '94
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| We keep our pistols cocked up in the Yoc ready for war
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| We get the loaded clips and dump em in the sewer side
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| That’s how it is living a life of gats and rivals
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| I’m locked up in that Yoc life, adversaries wish me dead
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| I’m still crackin' liquor caps, strapped in a skylark rippin' tread
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| Will I live through that Yoc life, is the gun-sight on my head?
|
| I’m packin' lead snacks for them scraps, pumpin' my wig back flauntin' red |
| We tried to tell you mother fuckers back in '94
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| We keep our pistols cocked up in the Yoc ready for war
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| We get the loaded clips and dump em in the sewer side
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| That’s how it is living a life of gats and rivals |