| I’m under suspicion, so I’m forced to move around a lot
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| Using criminal plots, to bleed blocks
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| And decieved cops, keeping my heat cocked
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| Cause hard knocks, keep a nigga on watch
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| Thinking every new face that I meet’s, just another pair of
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| Scandalous eyes on the rise, some niggas to anxious to say hi
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| Some hoes too quick, to come off the thighs
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| It ain’t hard for these hatas to hide, so I’m on the grind
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| Wondering with a one track mind
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| Whether we win or we lose, through the thick and the thin
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| I’m one the rise, so I’ma die for mine
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| Trying to make it to the top, no more ducking the cops
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| Cause I’m scared to show my I. D
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| Nervous when I see them bright lights, blinding me
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| Already noid, since they got behind me
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| Rolling dirty, so I know I’m going to jail
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| Cause I smell like a pound, sipping straight crown
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| Roll the top down, showing off surround by sound
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| Gauge from the backseat, letting it down
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| But ain’t no need to clown, cause we gon hold the final
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| We gon ball, till the day we die
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| Witness the world’s, most deadliest niggas
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| Trying to gain control, cause it’s our time to shine
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| Look at all the money we earning mayn
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| As the world keep turning mayn
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| Try to do it on the low, but everywhere I go
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| Somebody got a law man, learning names
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| Nothing but the finest doja, be burning mayn
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| As the world keep turning mayn
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| Top of the line, Mary Jane for strain
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| And I’m never caught, slipping in the turning lane
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| Peep this, look at all the change
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| Top of line, Mary Jane for strain
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| But a nigga feel wherever I go, somebody got a law man
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| Learning names, but it’s all in the game
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| I need to realize, what the deal is
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| Where you at, can a nigga come chill
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| Parlay, and smoke some weed at your crib
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| And motherfuckers I don’t even know, be running up on me
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| Talking bout, nigga I ain’t seen you in years
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| What type of bullshit that is, they got they hands out
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| No doubt, Guerilla Maab steady jamming stacking the clout
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| You keep my name out your mouth
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| And ain’t no tricking with that, cause they ain’t down
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| Cause I be ready to clown, and making em move round
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| Whoa now, and in the turning lane
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| Where a nigga be wanting to get me
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| But like a banana, my army peeling at em be tripping
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| But on the cool, I act a damn fool
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| Look at all the money we gain, and hell if I gotta jack fools
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| Everybody wanna see a nigga dead for real
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| Other niggas really wanna go, and play my skills
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| So I gotta be quick, to knock drama out of place
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| Taking a pitch out a plate, ready to face
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| Any nigga, any broad, anybody that’ll wanna
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| Take me out of the game, ain’t a damn thang changed
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| I’ma maintain, and keep my composure
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| So if you take a wrong step, you better keep on coming
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| And I know, that it ain’t gotta be that way
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| But it’s too many people, that’s steady fucking with Trae
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| Keeping us stressed with a vest, you better pray to get blessed
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| Cause this negativity, making me the man that I be
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| Ain’t nobody, gonna be taking me out of the game
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| Cause I was blessed, with the mind to maintain
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| And gotta think fast, when I’m on my toes
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| Guerilla Maab, haven’t you heard we number one
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| Since I got too many diamonds glissing
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| They wanna tap my phones, so they can listen in
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| Differed ajudification, from conversation
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| About dividends, living in a world that’s fucked up
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| White folks, be making these drugs
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| We killing each other fo', spilling blood over territory
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| We don’t own, dumb shit we killing each other fo'
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| Steady yellin out Northside, and yelling Southside
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| Every motherfucker, got they mouth wide
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| Open, infrared beams be scoping
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| And monitoring, everybody outside
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| On my congregation, with a bird’s eye view
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| Everybody wanna rap, cause they heard I do
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| Never be another nigga, that’ll write a 16 bar
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| Using the nouns and verbs, I use
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| I choose, to be the nigga that’ll be ready for war
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| Motherfuckers be bumping they gums
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| Bout anything, they can get they mind on
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| I pimp on and grind on, mad cause I got my shine on
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| A Maab type nigga like myself, never ever be
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| Givin' a damn about, what a bitch wanna lie about
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| Give a nigga a reason, to dress up in black
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| And give a grandmother, something to cry about
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| Because I’m a G in the game, bringing a bitch out of me
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| Is something, that a motherfucker never gon see in the game
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| T.A.Z. |
| he in the game, Trae he in the game, Dougie D in the game
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| But certain motherfuckers, shouldn’t even be in the game
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| Maintain, everybody want attention but I stay plain jane
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| Top of the line, Mary Jane for strain
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| Never caught, slipping in the turning lane |