| Shout out to everybody I hang with
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| Mothafuckin' D.U., B Boy,,
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| Mothafuckin' Ralphy,
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| All my niggas,
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| Oh
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| Digga
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| Let’s go
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| Okay
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| From «you don’t want ‘No Problems'»
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| To groupies, to tours
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| To seventeen platinum with Fugees, ‘The Score'
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| Cold to luke warm to hot like house fire
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| To columbine dumb ass fucked up my Outsidaz
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| To back to the hood like to clock dam thangs
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| Till I’m back spitting with Red on «Doc's The Name'
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| To Digga on ‘Electica'
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| To Simon on the Flips
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| To the ‘Blackout' album
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| Had bitches fighting over dick
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| To Slang getting killed trying to get them bills
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| To the Blaze Battle when I lost to bitch ass Shells
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| number one only god made me escape dry
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| I’m coming home happy, Half a mil on ‘8 mile'
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| Track number seventeen on ‘D12's World'
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| To my house by the sea shell where she sells pearls
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| If I’m up on the charts I’m slumped in a van
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| I love ya’ll that stuck with me, ya’ll my number one fans
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| Oh, Yeah (Number one fans)
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| Oh
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| I love ya’ll, Yeah
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| Keeping riding with me
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| We gunna ride this one out
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| Young
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| Who fresher than me?
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| And to Digga I ask god how I get so blessed
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| How she spits so fresh, sex so wet, girl
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| For you I do life in a jail, just send me in the mail
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| I write from my cell
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| Even though I couldn’t pull it through for you I tried
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| It darken my pride, I put that all aside, ha
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| Back in the ride, girl don’t want no mad bitches
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| I’m gunna ride this mafucka till I crack the transmission
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| And all your tracks live, fresher than most rap gods
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| I love how you killed me like that shits was like «whoo»
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| When I see you on stage, I get butterflies
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| Knowing latter on my tongue going up those thighs
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| I’m such a lucky guy and every night I shut my eyes
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| I thank god for you
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| Zee, your number one fan
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| Oh! |
| Woah
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| Love you girl
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| Yeah, number one fan! |