| It’s Friday night… I call up B Fin
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| I’mma fly by with the Henn
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| He on deck with a zone of cush
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| I’m fresh off a car wash, it feels good to push —
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| The Q through the innercity
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| I’m on the telephone blowin' this last blitty
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| Streets filled with rims, chicks on the dick
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| Stoppin' at the stop light, holla real quick!
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| It’s on tonight.
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| I +Phil Da Agony+ in every last drink that I take (that's right)
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| We high stakes, do it big like Bill Gates
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| I only know a chosen few to rest his real fate
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| Dilated’s at the House of Blues, we doin' it this
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| The bird’s who see me don’t choose they losin' it
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| Double L mean low lands, that’s one to grow on
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| She said she played music, I gave her somethin' to blow on
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| We stay bubblin'
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| Money makin' hitters, stay hustlin'
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| We stay bubblin'
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| From the East to the South
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| To the beach here we reach, where we reach
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| Critically acclaimed, spit it to you simple and plain
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| It’s like acid rain fallin' on your brain
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| Blame it on the man in the booth
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| We bring understanding to you
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| And show you what the proper plan to do
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| Phil Da Agony and Defari Herut, you can see it engraved
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| If you look close — the Golden Statue
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| So don’t think, givin' a nigga money
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| And stringin' him along with twenties
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| We see through y’all, niggas is funny
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| Heart and hustle, overcame talent and luck
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| I spread love, cause most of y’all hate — violent as fuck
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| I had to go through it to pursue it as a career
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| Back then when I was practicing in front of the mirror
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| Blunt in my ear, blunted out, rhyme of the year
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| It’s time for a beer, crack it open, back to my chair
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| Contracts holdin' me back — to commitments
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| Product comin' in by the shipments
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| It’s time to make a difference
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| Gold cuffs, diamond earrings
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| Drink up, you wasn’t hearing me
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| Gold watch, diamond cut pinky ring
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| Drink up, we do this yearly
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| Break bread, blow trees, take head — for free
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| No cheese, 40's of Olde E, no diddle
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| Just a little Goose and cran for these brittles
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| Aiyyo we bubble out, we double our clout
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| Hit the club and be out —
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| We veterans at this, scrubbin' you out
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| Born to make music, match all my melodies
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| I don’t believe NONE of these bitches, they keep tellin' me
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| Call 'em how I see 'em —
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| Niggas’ll hold back on podium
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| Then try to put a record out to free him, release him
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| I’m wide awake, migraine headache, food on my plate
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| You need real estate’s to get the estates, nigga |