| See nigga we thugged out for a reason
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| Niggas ain’t thuggin, because, they like the look nigga
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| Or they like to be on these streets nigga
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| Nigga we thuggin cause we gotta eat out’chea where I’m from
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| Ca$hville, gangsters nigga
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| I had to step back and regroup myself, overlook employees
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| And see how much juice was left cause niggas came for me
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| Revolvers to fullies increasin my ki' movings
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| Soakin game from Baby watchin old mob movies
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| Two all gold clips, go with this platinum uzi
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| To keep you bitches losin 'round Christmas time when the jackers choosin
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| Niggas refusin feel that heat first, shit gets deeper
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| See when we beef we make yo' street hurt, check yo' beeper
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| The job is done when you get 911's
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| Receivin calls talkin 'bout son your lil' brother all alone
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| My attitude can quickly change potnah
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| Heads get bust open like Priest when he poppin bottles
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| No role models to look up to when you ghetto raised
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| Leavin no clues, stack revenues in different ways
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| Trade that deuce 57 and get yourself two K’s
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| Then let a nigga know how much mo' you made in two days
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| How can a nigga blame another nigga for the way he would plan
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| His operation led to destination under sand
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| Some niggas playin with me are scared to stand behind their steel
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| Shake up and break up what was organized for years
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| Shed tears, when white folks hand a nigga a L
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| Ball up and fuck all up a nigga mail
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| Beeper reportin low, when you put in a Duracell
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| Put it in your mind, cause that’s the first sign they on the trail
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| Where I dwell, there’s plenty money shit be hard to tell
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| Who doin the yap yappin so they tappin up the cells
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| When you lived on the hill, was never late payin yo' bills
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| Now you back to the projects, shit out here gettin real
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| Somebody lackin they skills and they street smart
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| Ain’t no sunshine playboy, they life dark
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| It takes one star, one car, one nigga who made it far
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| One thug, one grudge and it’s life behind bars
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| I stand all man nigga, though a child in age
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| I got my own brain, my own ways to go and get paid
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| Niggas want you in the shade but when you come out and shine
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| Then here it is you owe 'em somethin, but what about mine?
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| I never signed a dotted line, therefore just let me be
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| T.I.P. |
| took me under and we headed to the highest peak
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| I might as well just speak, for the soldiers with Buck
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| Load your artillery, prepare to put your guns up
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| You think it’ll get to this, Bowre told me it would
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| Said it’s all good no more, puttin on your black hood
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| Still the same frustration that stay beatin my chest
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| If it ain’t one of these bitches then these niggas won’t test
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| A meal ticket nuttin less, that’s what I’m shootin for
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| And in my quest for chips, there’s some shit you can’t ignore
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| So I load up the 4, if you want it then let it be
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| All these fake niggas tryin to be just like me |