| Marcelo
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| Who, nigga?
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| Man, my trunk sound like this when me and my niggas ride through
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| Grandmama in your living room, thought that y’all was doomed
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| If a sucker hating on me, I’ll take his shorty to the moon
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| And don’t think that she ever coming back too soon
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| Don’t think I won’t sweep a sucker up with the broom
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| Yoruichi, keep me geeky, this no Kiki, that’s my boo
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| Pull up with my niggas smoking more than him and you
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| I give no fuck about your purpose, nigga, I’ma hurt you
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| If you pull up moving crazy, I bet we reverse you
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| I’m from Memphis, Tennessee where they’d rather murk you
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| Mind your business, don’t get in it, he might have to dirt you
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| I’ma only tell the truth, I got the mausoleum view
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| Nigga, who? |
| And that could go for him or you
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| I tried to keep the peace, but they let the hate through
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| And now the tears burn, I’m blowing anger out the roof
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| At one point in time, I didn’t trust my own truth
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| I smoke a hundred blunts while I ponder on the truth
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| Now I understand why they never let me through
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| Now I understand why I’m nothing like you
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| Dragon Fang Gang, pull up to it, then it’s through
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| Nigga, who? |
| I put the sand in his boots
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| Space cowboy, platinum-plated on the coupe
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| I’ma slide through it just to pick up me a few
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| And then I slide off into the Himalayan view
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| Nigga, who? |