| You may not know me but I’m a legend to my bredren 'nem
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| Never acted funny over money, I just represent
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| Tryin' leave the trap but I’m more active than I ever been
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| Loss after loss, nigga feelin' like I never win
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| I don’t put my soul on audio for y’all to party on
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| I do this for the vultures, the culture, and to put my woadies on
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| Blowin' the lil dodi gone, my food cold, soda warm
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| Mama in the kitchen bitchin' bout me goin' to court tomorrow
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| Made the news usin' rifles, breakin' bible rules
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| We just some po' poets, choppas like some biker crews
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| Learned how to cook from a custom
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| Not to cut it too much, though
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| Find a spot, open shop, then I went for the gusto
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| Ain’t no detours, just G4s now
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| Long paper strong enough that we can beat laws down
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| My violent course of action, 'course gon leave yo ass crossed out
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| Sleepless like the reaper cousin, I keep one closed eye
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| Two or three 45s, just for these cold times
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| Nigga don’t know what I been through just to speak those lines
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| Put a smile on my city face, every acquitted case
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| Left the judge and the DA with a bitter taste
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| Money matters, nothing else
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| A lot of it and nothing less
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| Still prayin' for them true players under false arrest
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| Been so close to death I smelt the last one on his breath
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| Pastor tried to baptize me, fucked around and got possessed
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| Put that on my chain and that lil vein in my neck
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| Yeah, that list is gettin' shorter shawty, you might be next
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| Upgraded all my rollies with the bigger rocks
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| Bigger guns, yeah, I’m double backin', nigga watch |