| We famous decorators
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| Outlaws with the force with the Money Makers
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| Wu-Tang when we bang we be regulators
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| Player haters can’t play us cuz the thugs obey us
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| Bust a slug to save us
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| Straight missle, spit false gristle, snapper time
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| Pop the tops off of Anaheims, tropic refined
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| Extortin air time, imported from the Mason-Dixon Line
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| Look at my frigid eyes, fake fucks describe
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| Slap 'em paralyzed, analyze the lies
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| Kinetic, my word is all I have, slaughter trash
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| Monster mash, half ass on the war path
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| Suffer land, give a fuck, grand crashin the Pan Am
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| My squad Van Damme, the shit was suntan
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| VA so tanned, without the beenie rap, who?
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| Hoodini rap, Mussolini stack, Lambourghini crash
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| Kiss the genie lamp, henny big, excellency
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| No fake shit, wrong recipe, war speciality
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| Meet the headless heat
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| Recognize, direct from them cats that fantasize
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| It’s that nigga Trigga, Medallion Isle drug dealer
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| I slaughter pace on the reels, no more dough waste
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| This paper chase got me in the eyes of snakes
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| Brutalize projects, caught up with the fake
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| True villain, when I vacate I’m Cold Chillin
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| Niggas spillin, picture the man, ice grillin
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| Gats with the muffle, groove on with my hustle
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| For 25 years of tears and no fears
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| Money Makers, Wu-Syndicate takin it, yeah
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| Let it be clear, Medallion Isle, we foul
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| Klik Ga Bow move man, woman and child
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| It’s the swarm, Russ Prez smokin a storm
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| Far from norm, life legacy live long
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| Represent, I reside in eternal torment
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| Often survivors of abortion, lampin in coffins
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| Forcin, yea, wrap your tear in extortions
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| Yea, big before I return hit the porcellain
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| The K, the G, the B, Ill Knob bring the ruckus
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| Cuz I don’t got time for these faggots, they frontin
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| But I’m about to break em out the havoc with the fire
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| I battle water, what you order?
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| You would run far from the slaughter
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| I’m gunnin out whoevers in the order
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| The hitch out, no bitch out
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| I’m cold bloody, nigga, get your rich out
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| A nigga ditch out for yourself and your family
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| Cuz I don’t want nobody layin, handin me
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| I’m livin life, profanity, insanity
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| Because I’m not sane, insane
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| When I rockin on the block I gots to push my cane
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| Got to live in this life, baby, times is trife
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| Have to be on my side if you playin my wife
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| No knife come between us, married to my Syndicate
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| Niggas see this, playa hate and try to be this
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| It’s hard to beat us and you don’t wanna be this
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| When you warmin up ya fist, you don’t wanna be missed
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| Buck! |
| Buck! |
| Bust a slug back, what the fuck?
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| This is yea, three burners, made Tina Turner dance
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| Probably you kidin me, only my man bust outta me
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| I was gotta slicin the pot by about a three
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| Dicks for them niggas that snitch, whoever shot at me?
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| All up on my shit, pussies plottin three days to 'bout a week
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| Wu-Syndicate, most hypnitated 'cross the E-N-T
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| Entire, niggas collapse and raid the empire
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| Where the stash at? |
| Cryin, he broke, a damn liar
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| Yolk for the smoke, back room, medallion man croke
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| Now kneal, no jokes, get back, take it, no damn moat
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| Joke, lock the dough, pussy, stay down, lay down
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| Slow Napoleon, get the duct tape, cave it for cash flow
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| Biography, million of my fans get painted robbery
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| A to Z enyclopedia, color photography
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| Penitentuary rhyme, soft get they ass took
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| Street turn, patiently speakin, you know the math
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| Make bitch niggas ballerina, pull up they tu-tu
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| Smacked up in front of your bra, what his man do?
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| Eyes gluded to my right hand
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| Don’t rush me, what that bitch nigga scream?
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| Runnin through traffic like lightnin
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| My loud boss screamin, yellin for wifin
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| You see that shit, another hit, Wu-Syndicate
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| Myalansky, Joe Mafia, Napoleon, collie on
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| Marlon Brando rap, your rolie on
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| '97 bar, tighten storm door, war was on
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| '98, a twisted rate, kidnap and solemnly swore
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| To my pa', give my last call, pass the shoe horn
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| Don’t shoot guys, calmly move on, totally we groove on
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| We above your valley cleaner, who clapped, Sally seen her
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| Black '97 beamer, bitch niggas ballerina
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| Niggas dance
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| Famous decorators, yea, yea
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| Poison Clan… *echo* |