| Chaos struck nation-wide today as four suspects, including the
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| Members of the rap group Wu-Syndicate and another suspect, 12 O’Clock
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| Alledgedly have infiltrated and taken over the industry
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| We’ll keep you updated as more news becomes available
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| I pull heist like the Colombo’s, mob price, traffic is closed
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| The Heiroglyphics, son, watch the money power
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| When I was 19 wrote the wheel, cherished the poker life
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| 25 man’s rack, kidnappin his thug wife
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| Glamorous, en-vi-vivangelist, fuck his fanatics
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| Just from Los Angeles, blowin like Alanis
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| Napoleon, vision of Malibu golden sands
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| Roll with J in a bubble outlet, you know the clan
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| Schemed out my mind
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| Ghetto syringes tooken with spy ninjas
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| Mafia with swiftness, conductin the sheist business
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| Probably win, minor gotti click, abduction
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| My peeps, extortion flame, the holo-tips corruptin this metropolis
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| It drain slow, over karets, see a vain hoe, maintain, oh
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| Ya flame thrower, UFO, niggas is jakin at hoes
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| Playin the same tunes for Picollo’s
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| A shy house, slangin Micollo’s
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| Duckin the snot mineral
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| I put the hoe at risk, I make 'em carry my grip
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| In the whip with the extra clips
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| She could stick it up her pussy
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| Don’t get scared, I’m real deep
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| They just put up the doofy
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| I think the po’s 'bout to poo me
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| And if they do, you better say we goin' to the movie
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| If they ask my name, it be Benetton McClain
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| If shit gets serious, bitches soakin in fame
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| Now I change the name 12 O’Clock off into a white cop
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| Bitch cursin a lot, stop
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| This shit is creatin more situations
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| She gon' take it, 5 years probation
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| Sittin at home waitin
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| For me to come home, lacin me up, boot
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| Yo, chill 12 O’Clock, the feds rushed my man spot
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| Pictures of the proda-blue land down in Suzanne’s shop
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| Questionin this cat I knew named Dredd Scott
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| Polly yo cousin stashed half of a man inside his dread snot
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| Just before he made it back to Bedrock
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| He had testified against this cat from up to pushin a Benz drop
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| Trafficin coke back in a bread box, then I heard it wasn’t coke
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| Shit was terron, raw eggs, stop
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| Should of clapped his ass, I seen a flash cop
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| Swarmin in the parkin lot, projects hot
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| Tropic is scorchin rock, hrad to try to cop a knot
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| Informer type faggots they snitch
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| Bitches, they talk a lot, stab 'em with dick
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| Beady overdosed, clockin syran, too many minerals
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| Pockets stay mad with no ears, this shit is petifull
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| Cheddar bring the jealousy, burners blaze over some beef
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| Dead in my industry, I can’t lie
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| My head is defeat, pussy ain’t nothin sweet
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| All my niggas are locked in the beast
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| Who used to run with me, Daddy-O
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| Daddy you home, you livin comfortably
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| Respect due, but never is paid
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| Bitch comfort me, heroin, crack
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| Pagin each other, jump on a jack for fee
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| Hundred dollars, sell it, we took
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| Another way to eat, I can’t lie
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| Shit that I write is like a legacy
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| …a legacy |