| Everybody put cha middle fingers up
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| And represent yo block
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| If ya hands stays down
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| You a snitch or a cop
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| A bitch with cock
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| And dont belong out here
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| What I say -- whole waist
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| So we strong out here
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| Outlaw clique niggas King Kong out here
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| And everybody know the words to our songs out here
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| And everybody on the block love Pac out here
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| And everybody on the block love Yak out here
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| We like pits on a strip
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| Ya can’t swat out here
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| You don’t know how many guns my niggas got out here
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| But yall niggas really think that yall could clock out here
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| When every night the old folks call the cops out here
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| Every night the old folks here shots out here
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| Jerzey Mob -- Outlaw got it locked out here
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| And anything that goes down we got to drop out here
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| And anybody creppin' thru we gon' spot out here
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| Stop, pop, drop, and roll
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| Out of townerz on ya block
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| And they gotz 2 go now
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| (Muszamil)
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| I came long ways
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| From blockz of Jerzey
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| Three-80 building hallway
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| Cops surround me
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| The bloody streets of Irvington
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| Young thugs caught up
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| But ever since 10
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| That’s the way I was brought up
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| They shoulda' killed me then
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| I wonder why they didn’t
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| Ain’t no friends in this cold-hearted muthafuckin' business
|
| I know -- my parents got murdered over dough
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| I’m rappin' now
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| I ain’t selling coke no mo'
|
| I put the drugs down
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| Left the game all along
|
| You’ll neva win and some of these niggas’ll neva know
|
| They addicted and burnt out -- in position
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| It’s too late to get out now
|
| Charges poppin' up stickin
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| (Homicide)
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| Stop, drop -- nigga why you 'round here?
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| We Outlawz -- put that game down 'round here
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| They call me Homi
|
| Ground the caine round all year
|
| I talk to Tommy
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| While the Jerz Mob downstairs
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| They came to hate a Homi
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| But get an Army
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| Cause it’s off yeah
|
| We first to bomb
|
| Specializing in warefare
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| Ride or die for the war
|
| Where I put in work
|
| Screamin' fuck the earth
|
| Middle finger to the law -- yeah
|
| Stop, pop, drop, and roll
|
| Out of townerz on ya block
|
| And they gotz 2 go now
|
| (Napoleon)
|
| It’s like I’m walking thru a cemetary
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| Breathin' but I’m really buried
|
| Starting trouble everyday at clubs
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| It ain’t necessary
|
| Half-way thug started thuggin 'bout a week ago
|
| I was slappin' niggas before Pac signed to Death Row
|
| Jerzey niggas know it
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| Cause it’s all in my blood
|
| Fag niggas show respect when they see my black gloves
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| I ain’t got nuttin' to live for but Salik
|
| And Salik know daddy on the urge of release
|
| Stand with heat
|
| But prayin for peace
|
| But die for war
|
| Ain’t nuttin' to eat so we told the streets like before
|
| Who the fuck wanna see the down stare of a reaper
|
| I ain’t tryna die either
|
| So talk to this mili-meter
|
| So --- break yoself, make yoself, take yoself
|
| Fuckin' with me -- I’ll make you hate yoself
|
| Empty the shelf or empty what’s left
|
| Burn thru yo chest
|
| Sellin' these tracks is like sellin' yo death
|
| Napoleon
|
| Stop, pop, drop, and roll
|
| Out of townerz on ya block
|
| And they gotz 2 go now |