| Criminal kingpins, gangstas and cheap friends
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| Actors, vixens, niggas put your kicks in
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| Blood money when we hawking, ackward gun that go around curves
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| Bullets braze niggas with coffin, yo
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| Watch how to rhyme with hammers, I got two mens
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| That don’t speak English, shooting game’s bananas
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| Down in Spain, my bangles, clusty, checking my swings
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| Trillians on, yo, cuffing my jeans
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| Broad day, yo, body another, my microphone is like
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| Blow 'caine, one, pull the trees, you love us, yo
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| So killers be cool, pimps, read rules
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| When a grown man is rapping, it’s Ill Street Blues
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| Striving, nigga, with one side
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| Don’t go against totally rent shit, nigga, baby gonna die
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| Yeah, bank robbers armored up, gear like the boys in Heat
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| DeNiro told one soldier keep quiet
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| Aiyo, word to mother
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| Ya’ll niggas better bring ya selfs son, word
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| When Pun was packing a mack in back of the Acura
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| I was dealing in them buildings, it wasn’t no cameras
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| The witness savages, snitching was hazardous, now it isin’t
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| Shit is embarrasing, fuck a flow, this is a lyrical aquaduct
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| Sink or swim for what I’m hearing you bagging up
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| Lyte like the MC, I’m 'paper thin', you tripping
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| I’m taking trips, your eyes don’t lie, take a glimpse
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| Into my life, you see me blazing clips, with the green to make it rich
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| With a team that’ll scrape the Knicks, and a v that’s crazy quick
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| I came to wear my Yankee fitted, represent for greatness
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| It’s lyrical elevation, causing mental stimulation
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| If I’m getting too deep, I give you a minute to take in
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| My jewels radiant, like a view of the Caymans
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| And thinking you seeing me, who you playing with?
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| Cor, Mega, raw forever
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| Fell back, pause, fell off? |
| Never
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| P! |
| Shaolin, what up?
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| Aiyo, listen giraffe neck niggas, I blast techs
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| Alejandro, came through with the Mexican Aztecs
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| Rap smack niggas on a whole different aspect
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| Homey, owe me dough, that’s how we fucked up his last check
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| Three train Saratoga, train stop, nigga been
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| Metro part with the plan, make major figures
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| Foul flagrant, two shots, give me the ball back
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| You got shot, get off my ball sack
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| You not hot, give me a call back, niggas is all wack
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| Super doopa stupid, get drugs and I fall back
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| P, ain’t a problem that the God can’t handle
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| I set it off First Blood, Sean John Rambo
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| Whoooo, as you can see, I’m focused
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| Boot Camp for life, fuck the G.I. |
| Joe shit
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| Boot Camp is an Army, better yet a Navy
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| Marine Air Force Ones, nigga, the shit’s crazy, don’t play me |