| Yo East New York in this motherfucker, Blahzay Blah in this motherfucker
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| Brooklyn in this motherfucker, Dirt Dog in this motherfucker, it’s on point
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| Come on baby let me you jump, let me see you body rhythm pump
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| Come on baby let me see you go, let me see you, like go, go, go
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| Aiyo, my timin' is so precise, gangsta all my life
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| I don’t get robbed, I control the heist
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| Cold as ice, still nothing, this whole device
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| Life’s a gamble, so I roll the dice
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| I camed up, still I’m up and coming
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| Auto start, put on my sneaks, truck is running
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| Bad broads, that’s beyond Beyonce
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| Eatin' on my body like a dinner entree
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| What ya’ll critics gonna say, don’t even risk it
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| Forget Pillsbury, eat this Blah Blah biscuit
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| Ya’ll watered down the game, man, like bar liquor
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| It’s nothin' for me, I just buy the bar quicker
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| Oh my God, nigga, I’m in the house, and I’m rowdy
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| He been doin' this since five thousand on an Audi
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| Remember «Danger!» |
| Yo, ya’ll know Blah
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| This is grown under water, ya’ll ain’t even in my sonar
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| The east is in the house like (danger)
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| About to, turn it out like «Oh My God» (danger)
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| Put the barrel in your mouth like (danger)
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| I see the dipper through a blouse, it’s «Oh My God» (danger)
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| Me and Dirty on the floor like (danger)
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| Me and Dirty pimpin' ho’s like «Oh My God»
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| So then you act like you love my little baby
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| And you know that I act a little crazy
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| I’m on the streets lingo, spendin' the spingo
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| Eazy-E lingo, doin' the dango, the vet' don’t wear Kangol
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| I dare pump my shit, at the club, actin' strange, yo
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| Smack ya’ll niggas in the face, yo
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| Got wiggas in the place, yo, block party in this motherfucker
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| I’m the only round actin' like sucka, sucka bitch ass pucker
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| So don’t play this motherfucker, or watch you bird clucker
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| So don’t let yourself break yourself
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| With the sip and tumble, that will take yourself
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| I move with that heat that smoke you in your head, man
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| The shit war, time to take, man, take man
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| East/West beef is over, gettin' money all over
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| Set up shop in Cali, then one in deli Dover
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| Music, or sellin' crack by the Grove
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| I ain’t talkin' about dick, but I’mma stock it to hoes
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| I’m not gonna grow, I’m the type to explode
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| Hit this song to walk back in it, then it’s gon' be white gold
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| Eatin' wild timing, ya’ll know it’s my title
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| I burn more bushes than Moses in the Bible
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| But hates gon' Holly, pimpin’s gon' Broadway
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| So many pimps, broads don’t know who to pay
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| But ya’ll better have my dough
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| Come on baby, just go go go
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| Yo, I once was lost, but now I flaunt
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| 2004 Porsche, all you haters get off
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| I will board-to-the-board, the-hang-the-hang
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| Down to the ground, to the ground, they bang, they bang |