| This life of ours
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| The same thing that got a nigga here get me there
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| (Everything you see, ain’t always what it seems to be)
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| Yeah yeah, the same thing that got a nigga here get me there
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| Come on, Bad Azz, Kurupt, The Gang
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| I’m just trying ta make a dollar out of nothing
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| Turn zero into somethin'
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| And it’s, one life we live, with this, one shot to give
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| You got chances, we use none risking your life
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| You know we got guns, why you come and get us with knives
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| It’s a cold thang, the game, just take folks under
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| It feels better if you say that god just called his number
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| When you do we kept a self situations like that
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| In situations where it’s likely somebody might gat
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| No bad intentions, we all like to jump in the car
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| No destination but we all thinkin hard to get far
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| Money, houses, and cars, this life of ours, goin where
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| We came a long way, but still we got so far to go to get there
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| (The same thing that got a nigga here get me there, and if it don’t,
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| it wasn’t sposed to)
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| Money, houses, and cars, this life of ours, goin where
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| We came a long way, but still we got so far to go to get there
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| (The same thing that got a nigga here get me there, and if it don’t,
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| it wasn’t sposed to)
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| I got gangsta ass niggas with so much heat
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| G’d up rides with so much beat
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| G’d up apparal, dope by the barrels, gangsta ass goodfella nigga
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| Kurupt and Nell
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| I once had a bitch that ate so much dick
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| That she couldn’t do nuthin for me, but blow one of the homies
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| As I ease my way right up the streets
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| Me, D-A-Z, Bad Azz, and Priest
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| We gotta hit the spot where the homies meet
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| Where all the OG’s round up the fleet
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| Cuz the homies is crazy shit
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| And we all about stackin' up a grip
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| No funny ass niggas, no scandalous ass ho’s
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| And we don’t give a fuck about a bitch
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| I can’t worry bout a bitch
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| I’m tryin ta get rich by next week
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| And I can get me some pussy when it ain’t nuttin to eat
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| My life, this life of ours buyin nuttin, houses and cars
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| Ghetto stars, doin our thing
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| Like bust a bitch, bust a bitch, and get rich with my gang
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| We brang, to the table, what you ain’t able
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| A few pies to cut, cuz we ride for bucks in the worst way
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| Today Tuesday, I got a date on Thursday, and fuck what you say
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| You say dirt about us when we ain’t there
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| When we come around, you fuckin clown, you act scared
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| 2Pac is dead, stop questioning life
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| You had to talk to the feds, that’s the test in the life
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| Goin where, a long way from here to get there
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| You gotta mash to maintain
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| Blast thats the gang thang
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| (the same thing that got a nigga here get me there)
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| Money, houses, and cars, this life of ours, goin where
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| We came a long way, but still we got so far to go to get there
|
| (the same thing that got a nigga here get me there, and if it don’t,
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| it wasn’t sposed to)
|
| Money, houses, and cars, this life of ours, goin where
|
| We came a long way, but still we got so far to go to get there
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| (the same thing that got a nigga here get me there, and if it don’t,
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| it wasn’t sposed to)
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| (I, I, I, I)
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| I heard gangstas don’t ride with disguises
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| But I’m quick to throw the mask on to get my blast on
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| So call it what you want, yeah yeah, that’s all cool
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| But me and the homies bout to act the fuckin fool
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| Dump if you dump
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| Nigga pull the pump
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| Lay a nigga (lay a nigga), for the homies spray a nigga
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| This ain’t the Sony, so you can’t play a nigga
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| The homies quick to cock, A-K a nigga
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| With no hesitation
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| Penaltants populate the population
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| A nickel plated penitration
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| Khakis, t-shirts and stars
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| Homies, busta’s, riders and mark’s
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| All y’all niggas here wanna be hard
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| But no nigga with heart when the heater spark
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| Just ask the homie Bad Azz
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| He’ll put you d on how it’s sposed to be in the whole family
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| As I ease my way right up the streets
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| Me, D-A-Z, Bad Azz and Priest
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| We gotta hit the spot where the homies meet
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| Where all the OG’s round up the fleet
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| Cuz the homies is crazy as shit
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| And we all about stackin' up a grip
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| No funny ass niggas, no scandliss ass ho’s
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| And we don’t give a fuck about a bitch, (bitch, bitch, bitch)
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| Yeah, 1−9-9−9, the Gang, all in your face at close range
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| Mr. Bad Azz, yeah yeah yeah yeah, it don’t quit, we keep it crackin like this
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| Ugh, aww yeah yeah yeah, it don’t quit
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| It ain’t over till I’m done
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| Ain’t nowhere to hide, so why run
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| I don’t battle with rappers, either bomb or draw guns
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| You can hate me, cuz I got skills and live real
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| And my life is well woven in these stack of dollar bills
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| I should kill, I would come and kill your ass
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| But your only mission is destruction, why get in your path
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| I’ll let you kill yourself, while I chill with wealth
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| And let the story be the word on the streets, a few weeks
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| I gotta eat, fuck fuckin with you and being broke on the streets
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| Duck duckin with you and gettin' smoked, that’s a no-no
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| What you think it’s fifty five or 4−4
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| Money, houses, and cars, nigga I gotta go
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| Yeah yeah yeah yeah
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| It don’t quit we keep it wreckin like this, ha ha ha ha
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| Yeah yeah yeah yeah it don’t quit
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| Nigga you can suck a fat dick
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| Yeah, yeah yeah yeah yeah
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| We keep it crackin, keep it crackin like this (this, this, this, this) |