| Keep your plans on the low
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| Just another chamber, the swarm
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| Roll dark and deep, Bobby Digital
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| Wu-Syndicate, Wu-syndicate
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| Be Born, Daddy-O, what up Math?
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| Mickey Mirrors, true blessings
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| For what, X Era
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| Takin it to the clear this year
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| Faggots nervous but it’s time to dance with night strangers
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| Top rap don, cuz Daddy-O got me the dice game
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| It’s reg or not, pockets love Trump Donald
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| Pack your work, move your plans to VA
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| Heat on the lock collar
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| Bite your fingerprints, make the cops nog you
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| 98, wait, service applead, rated top dollar
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| Escape jake fakin plot alot hotter
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| Fake snakes smilin right in your face
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| Play this a lot smarter
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| Low avalanche, wobblely stance, ask for rain dance
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| We the same cats blazing your lab
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| Wu-Capone with a love jones, watch me son
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| Global with the local cats that’s known trifted in the hell zone
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| Politic, modern Gotti click
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| Just a matter of time before till Wu-Syndicate lock shit
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| How you stoppin, mega popular, modern mobster
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| Joe Mafia, Jay got me in bicolulars
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| Yo snatch run, shoot out, chicken nights how’s nice
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| Rule out, silk low valley, Mafia crew house
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| Drink vine, moon shine wine, sip it, fool out
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| Rollin wit a burner no doubt, shorty school out
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| First of all, for the record, Scarface jail cats
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| Cultured by stretch it but name it, rather socialize
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| Eyes never lies, these guys tell me throwing forty Cali’s stainless
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| Cuz these empty slugs spit pain, killer
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| Wylin on parole, so been on his rock
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| And Donny race spot it’s way hot
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| Son of a spray lock
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| Them mistress said it grazed his neck
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| Collapsing over bar rooms, holding his wounds
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| Yo what the fuck can it take?
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| Brokin glass fallin all on my head
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| Head ringin like Cyrus from bitches screamin
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| Blood on my leg
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| Let me catch my breath Glock appraise me
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| Feds chase me, toared my jabogs as I hopped the fence
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| Blood on my tongue taste it, son I was big off Remi
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| Even run to me, shorty run up in my spot, don’t let
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| The clown kill me
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| High beam helicopter light flash through the blind
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| Cousin what a cat gon do, drippin a man’s eye
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| Call down ya kids, smack the screamin bitch
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| Yo relax Myalansky, word it’s that teeny snitch
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| What’s the purpose, allerkin this search, street merchandist
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| Supeen service, here’s dirt to cause the turbulence
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| With lip service, scape jay, down rob handcuff plant to his hand
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| The purchase of the yae yo, take a make though, it’s blood money
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| Keep my hands muddy, rakin a lake ice with low money
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| Without a clue of what I wen’t through
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| Plus been through, stressing the issue
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| Shell shocked, hidin the pistol
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| The next chapter from the Brooklyn Criminology
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| Should of bought my life in the business, catchin ??
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| We felony, keep tellin these cats get Bills like Bellamy
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| Empires get hit for their chips, you just follow me
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| Gravity, Myalansky, nigga fancy
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| How real this could get when you’re broke
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| Platinum down please, my fam scheme, fuck the po-po
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| Sayin 'do, Daddy-O, Joe Mafia, T-Bone
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| Make Corleone rush like Phat Farm
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| Strong armin withmax chrome
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| Cats know runnin the spot, claimin they clap though
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| Kidnap though, thrown to the hostage, I know this cat knew
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| Snap though, leavin them duct taped, glory was cancelled
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| It’s pinzo, eleven o channel cut off his leg slow
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| He begged though, continued to throw it without info
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| Waterd down niggas be frontin, obviously bitch missed since 6 grade
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| Plottin on niggas, shinin their rich ways
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| Get switch bladed, bodies found decomposed, throwed in the ditch grave
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| Moms can’t identify shit, was there for six weeks
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| With blood money, frontin out stick’s peed
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| Quick way, fuck all the talkin this what my click say
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| Them bitch ate, sweeter than sugar pussy your dick faced
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| I answer this, many late nights, puffin on cancer sticks
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| On hell with this shit, sometimes I feel but I’m trapped in it
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| The x to the, amongst the projects with bang shooters
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| Hard rocks, skippin school to get their brains buddha’d
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| Lame chicks, filthy ass fiends to want the same vicks
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| Stick up cats, robbin for name kicks
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| Game flicks with low fooda
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| I’m forced to blast on these street soldiers with cold shoulders
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| It’s hard god metafogics
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| Rumbled in the concrete jungle to stay humble
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| Make my brain tumble, rainin cocaine and rain bubbles
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| Fucking jiggy, we doin it low
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| Stay pissy, sippin g, straight henny gettin bussy with Wu-Synny
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| In the small city, either walk straight, chop weight
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| Heads talkin to much, sending my niggas upstate
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| Ill fate, S U double F o to get shot alive what the F O
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| F o, f o, nigga |