| Yes, yes, yes, uh!
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| Balla shit, nigga
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| Timer shit nigga
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| (Regime shit baby)
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| Flossy shit, boi!
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| Rolex Rulez
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| Check it, we rock big jew-els an shit, big karats an Baggets an shit
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| Mutha fuckas be starrin, niggas packin big thangs too nigga
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| Uh
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| I started off wit heata shit
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| Carry a nine millameter shit
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| Rolex on my wrist
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| Never fuckin wit Geneve shit
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| (playboy whats Geneve shit?)
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| Somethin like 20 g’s cheaper shit
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| Tryin to pawn this shit, but the jewelry store tell you to keep the shit
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| Look juss like a Rollie, but it really ain’t Rollie
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| What the fuck you think homie, you walkin around wit fake Rollie
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| I never knew that swap meets a-wraps could make Rollie
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| The Motra fake Rollie’s, yo time an date gone break Rollie
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| The type of shit a theif won’t even attempt to take Rollie
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| Go out on a date, start makin bitches hate Rollie
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| Now pump yo brakes homie
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| Only the ballin qualified can rock the platinum, oyster, in distant
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| Rolex wear outside
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| «Stayin Alive» like Wyclef, gettin high until my eyes shut
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| Wise steps, hands carrassin my tech
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| Rolex under my sleve nigga
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| To each nigga playa hatin, I make you mutha fuckas bleed quicka
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| I read niggas
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| Look in my eyes an die slowly
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| Meet my four-five
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| Niggas done died fo a Rollie
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| I leave yo chest over yo family outside lonely
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| They died on the stretch an take an ambulance ride homie
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| My four-five told me, that shit that crucify homies
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| If I didn’t, got so many down niggas ready to ride fo me
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| Die fo me
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| Eye fo an eye homie
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| That’s what you get for tryin to rob me fo my Rollie nigga
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| Rolex Rulez
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| Chorus *(Phats Bossalini)* 2x
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| Well an nigga wit the Rolex on
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| You best believe he packin Stretch Armstrong
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| Some kinda gat or thang on him
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| Hit you bullet rain storms
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| When you got the Rolex watch, piece an chain on
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| Listen
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| To all my real playas
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| Throw yo Rollie’s in the sky
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| Wave 'em side to side
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| Then keep yo four-five caulked to ride
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| So many mutha fuckas done died
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| Tryin to steal a Rolex watch
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| Especially tryin to steal mines
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| I remember the day I bought my first watch
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| The turfs hot
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| Slangin them birdies, that chirpin juss don’t stop
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| Raise niggas off the block who turf hop
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| Juss got my first 5 in the world to check in the jewlery store the first
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| Spot
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| I’m wet
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| Cash the check, grab the tech an jet
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| 10 G’s in my pocket headed straight to Spence
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| I want my shit all baggets
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| But it cost too much
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| Had to fuck wit somethin less
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| Ain’t tryin to floss too much
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| A straight gold Presidential
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| No diamonds down the wrist
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| Princess cabezel
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| You know
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| That’s small timer shit
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| But fuck that!
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| I got the Rolex, chain an ring that match
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| Stack my scratch, until I got enough green to bring shit back
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| Exchange? |
| Yes!
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| Give up the chain an gain a Rolex
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| Drop some G’s
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| It’s juss like property so invest
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| An if you ever go broke, don’t feel depressed under stress
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| Pawn yo shit, I give you what you paid an not a dolla less
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| That’s big timer shit
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| White colla shit, so I jet
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| I see some niggas casin the set
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| Hangin out by my Lex
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| I grab the mutha fuckin Tech 9
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| The first time, I get to hear that mutha fucka scream an whine
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| Rolex Rulez!
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| Uh, to all my real playas, nigga, uh
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| Smoke-A-Lot up in this bitch
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| Regime shit, uh
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| Sometimes you gotta floss, sometimes keep that shit up under yo sleve
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| Haha. |
| Cuz niggas tryin to get us
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| But I keep big heats, nigga. |
| Uh
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| How many holes you want in yo ass?
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| BLOW-BLOW!
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| 1, 2, or 3? |
| Nigga what?
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| BLOW-BLOW!
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| Back the fuck up nigga. |
| We do our thang, Rolex Rulez
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| I sugguest you pack a gat too, my ballin ass potna
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| Or you will get flatlined
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| Done deal |