| It’s Young
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| Mook got the kids jumpin'
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| Before the night, it’s gon' go down, I end up shootin' in this bitch (Ooh, nah)
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| Two clips together at your round, I let it loose in this bitch
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| Keep plenty guns', come from slums
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| Like, fuck how ruthless it gets (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
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| It’s straight redrum, I scream out dumb
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| 'Cause I’m gon' shoot once you pick (Yeah, yeah, yeah, gang)
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| And that’s a death row stick, 'cause it got bodies on it
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| Came from a society where you drawn for catchin' bodies on it
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| Bust as soon as I spot it, homie, face that too, my thot be on it
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| Tell bro, «Move right, the cops been on it»
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| Can’t copyright, change your persona
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| Bitch nigga be actin' stiff, got the bar up in it, we can meet up in it
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| Fuck nigga, you’ll work or do your job, remember, we ain’t friends
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| Bitch nigga hatin' who I am, same kid from inside the pen'
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| Same nigga throwin' up the Nawf, walkin' up and down the street with the twins
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| Get in your shit, then I dive again
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| When that bag came, then the rob was in
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| Bitch, I been a survivor, lyin'
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| Full of shooters, nigga, this a shotta’s pen'
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| .357 with them coppers in it
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| Reaper of the industry, they say, «Killer ghost»
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| Never tell his thoughts, they’ll never know
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| He be maxed down with that calico
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| On Connect Street with that, know your dough
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| Hunnid grand, I connect the four
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| Ridin' 'round with a spark, bitch
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| When a nigga tell me, so the line is, «No»
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| Disrespect my mind, you know
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| Show that daddy how it go
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| Leave these bitch bitches, hit the block
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| Spin again when at the store
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| Try and run and sprint, shoot at that ho
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| Demon baby, demon flow
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| Say they fuck with you but really don’t
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| A-I gang 'cause I seen it before
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| Real gang baby made through the snow
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| Like a Hot Boy, I been in here
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| Come on Top, boy, it’s killin' season
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| Catchin' a water shark for any reason (Grrt, bah)
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| Oh, oh-oh (Tryna talk my talk, that shit)
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| Chasin' money, steady thuggin' from the cop cars (Yeah, I come in here)
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| Post up on the block, still, they made him show the Rasta'
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| Nigga, do you catch the drift? |
| (Bah, bah-bah)
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| Oh (Boom, bah, gang), oh-oh (Lil' Top)
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| Walkin' straight up outta Hell with them cold killers (I did, I did)
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| Ayy, straight up out the back with them same niggas
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| Ayy, soul stealers, big chain, he gon' get attention
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| From the parkin' lot, hit that bitch from the bleachers
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| Runnin' with creatures, we steppin' on leeches
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| False claimin', we gon' murder to teach ya
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| Do the whole thing when you play with that Nina
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| Got a bad nose, then you might catch a seizure
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| Pull up, blow that bitch up for no reason
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| Shoot that shit up, then we leavin'
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| Fuck wrong with these niggas, man?
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| I want these niggas to understand, 'til I’m sayin' with these demons (Bah, bah)
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| I said, «Kill the home, all of them»
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| Cravin' for that blood, I’m sittin' up
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| I need three more, like, bitch, I need
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| (I need ten, bah, I need ten
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| Ten motherfucker, ten, baby
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| Ten lil' babies, oh) |