| Uh, yeah
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| Choose a side
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| Look, vibe with me
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| Rhyme is tricky, who ridin' with me
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| Who kinda miss me can kindly miss me, you kinda iffy
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| Don’t know the history? |
| I’m from the city of stop-and-frisk me
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| The cops is jiggy, they spot the blickey then try and get me
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| My pops a Willie, said «Give her fifty, she pop her kitty»
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| He Bad Boy and he Poppa really, it’s not a Biggie
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| See my committee, block offici', it’s not an ishy
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| Or I’m too lazy to cross roads, if not, I’m busy
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| It’s not a mystery who shot Ricky, but where the difference
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| Between the tré and the dough boy, we bred different
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| So bear witness, this can leave you with head missing
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| If y’all can hear me, I guarantee you the feds listening
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| So I be spittin' in barcode, nothin' left in the tap, dog
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| And after the last call, the bar close
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| This my Cohiba, cigar blow
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| Even Tony Stark knows the tension is thick as Wallabee Clark soles
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| But did I mention I’m sick and gotta be hardcore
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| Hard-boiled, taking your base, that’s what we ball for
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| Money over bimbos, that’s what the Mob for
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| Rappers stuck in limbo 'cause they were settin' the bar low
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| Every time I rhyme on a track, it’s like a convo
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| King, we put the nine to your back, it’s like you Rondo
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| When it come to John, though, I’ma slaughter a John Doe
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| Drag him through a drive-thru like he ordered the combo
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| Hands on him, we wild style with the cans on him
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| Then come defeat, that’s my beliefs and I stand on 'em
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| Give you the beats, no Doc Dre or brands on 'em
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| Some men want 'em, these verses hot and the fans want 'em
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| I’m from the school of them hard knocks with harder standards
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| I’ve been a hard rock before they added the Arm & Hammers
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| My meth bananas, bogus method, we call it bama
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| Gun on the camera so we can shoot them in panoramas
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| Na-nana-nana, I’m feelin' petty, but watch your manners
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| Use proper grammar so we could stop with the propaganda
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| No type of slander but tell them hoes, «I'm not your Santa»
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| Just want the body, nobody tryin' to pot-and-pan ya
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| Cop scanners, a fuller house but we not the Tanners
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| If shooters bringin' them Hawks out, then it’s not Atlanta’s
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| If time is money, I got time and time saved
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| I pull your blinds and stop shine behind shade
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| Nobody get 'til I got mine, my mind made
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| If time is money, I got time and time saved
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| I pull your blinds and stop shine behind shade
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| Nobody get 'til I got mine, my mind made
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| Choose a side
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| Math vs Meth, Cival War
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| If time is money, I got time and time saved
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| I pull your blinds and stop shine behind shade
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| Nobody get 'til I got mine, my mind made
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| If time is money, I got time and time saved
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| I pull your blinds and stop shine behind shade
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| Nobody get 'til I got mine, my mind made |