| Yeah nigga your girl know him
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| Bay Area bully, whole mouth frozen
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| Still got the big 4−4 on him
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| Tatted like a death row inmate: no grin
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| Young Ya Boy, hotter than the oven
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| 'Cause racket like the you-S-O been
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| I get mo' money, mo' dough, mo' yin
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| Mo' chedder, mo' scribble, mo' scratch, mo' ins
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| Holla at your boy when I’m in your city (bitch)
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| I’m a bad boy, I don’t know P-Diddy
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| Young feel mo' slim, Fresco City
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| When I leave the club
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| All the ho’s come with me
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| Patrone on the rocks blowin' quartz in the air
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| Got your girl on my c***
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| Baby boy I’m a player
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| Got the toast in the spot
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| You don’t wanna get popped
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| So hood, so block, so drunk I got
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| Ho’s on my c*** and patron on the rocks (I got)
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| We bottle poppin'
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| You c*** blockin'
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| I’m on my gorilla’s, oh shit
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| Hood nigga, half a mil on my neck
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| And I wish you would nigga
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| I don’t wanna do a song with you
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| I’m good nigga
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| I ain’t at the bar 'cause the bar at my table
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| Precise gang and I’m the star of the label
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| Two chains, both hang down to my navel
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| I don’t need a record deal, look I’m stable
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| Yeah I’m good baby girl I’m straight
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| I’ve been the nigga mutherfucker you lay
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| Step up in the spot with that Kushy smell
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| Tryin' to get your girl to show me how that pussy feel
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| All black congac, same old 2 step
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| Bitch on my dick and she still ain’t moved yet
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| Still get it hot, baby girl we can rock
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| Maybe the watch is the reason why I got
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| Ho’s on my c*** and patron on the rocks (I got) |