| Come on, come on
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| Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on
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| I roll with a bunch of untamed guerrillas, head bustas, and sharks
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| Niggas that’s 'bout beefin' - lettin' them K’s spark
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| Knockin'-it-off-your-shoulder soldiers — them real niggas
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| Niggas who did time — hard-to-kill niggas
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| How you live, you get it is the way a nigga play it
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| Niggas ain’t fightin' no more — niggas bustin' your head
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| Sendin' you to your grave — it’s do or die, cousin
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| Aimin' straight for your head, makin' sure you die, cousin
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| They dressin' in black, prepared for combat
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| Ridin' four deep strapped with choppers and macks
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| Not givin' a fuck, gettin' your cut, lettin' it bust
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| You get hit, that’s on you, my nigga — you’re outta luck
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| You’re stuck like chuck — wodie, you’re assed out
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| That’s what happen to ya tryin' to be hard, runnin' your mouth
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| Get erased, my nigga (my nigga)
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| Look here: I leave no trace, my nigga (my nigga)
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| No witnesses so can you see my face, my nigga (my nigga)
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| Fled the scene — so you have no case, my nigga- -case, my nigga
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| Look here: you can play if you wanna get down
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| Get your stupid ass left where you can’t be found
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| We done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!)
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| We done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!)
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| We done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!)
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| We done popped you up, chopped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!)
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| We done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!)
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| We done popped you up, chopped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!)
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| We done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Whaa?)
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| We done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up
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| I was wrong for a lot of shit that I’mma take to my grave
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| Continuously whippin' niggas like a runaway slave
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| Must was meant for me to be thuggin' - I stay in some beef
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| Baby and Slim keep tellin' me, «Juvenile, stay off them streets.»
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| I can’t help — I draw attention; |
| they be fuckin' with me
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| I’m hot in the ass and can’t get enough of these streets
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| A lil' nigga in the Rolls screamin', «Fuck the police!»
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| Peelin' out in front the club, about to duck to the east
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| Now play yourself, you gon' find yourself by yourself
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| In a nice place ducked off with fucked up health
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| I done been strucked and snuck, but never fucked and stuck
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| My life is four hundred degrees, so I bust 'em up
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| Still stickin' to the g-code, Ree’s, and B’s
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| Quit drinkin', but I will smoke some weed indeed
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| All they understand is my project English
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| And if you don’t like it, you can kiss my penis
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| We done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!)
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| We done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!)
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| We done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!)
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| We done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!)
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| We done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!)
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| We done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!)
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| We done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!)
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| We done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!)
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| I run the streets cause I’m real if it’s daylight or dark
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| You a killer, nigga? |
| (Eah?) Ain’t no fear in my heart
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| I’ll go toe to toe with ya or take ya to war
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| I’ll even go K for K with ya — now make your choice
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| Better know when I’m in beef that I be creepin', nigga
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| Better know that I’m a snake, and I’mma sneak ya, nigga
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| Each time I hit the corner, I be leavin' niggas
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| Momma upset — can’t even go on and grievin', nigga
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| Nothin' change — I’m on TV, I don’t play with you niggas
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| Still the same that’ll spin broad day on you niggas
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| And empty a hundred out that K
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| Where you’re caught hangin' is where you’re left stankin', ya heard me
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| I’ve been in the game — niggas know what I’m 'bout
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| So many murders under my belt, I done lost count
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| If you wanna be another number, my nigga
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| Go ahead, drop your nuts, and run up, my nigga
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| We done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!)
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| We done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!)
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| Now, we done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!)
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| Nigga, we done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!)
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| Now, we done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!)
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| And we done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!) |
| Look, we done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Whaa?)
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| Look, we done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!)
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| Hello, world
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| I zip through fast in a yellow pearl drop Porsche Boxter
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| Young mobster, wild and obnoxious
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| Pop some in your dreadlocks — What? |
| Me not no rookie, boy
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| Glock cookin', boy
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| I’ll turn your forehead to a pussy, boy
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| Off the gate, cousin, you niggas gon' make me stalk and spray somethin'
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| Spark or lace somethin'
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| Park the car, get out, walk, and spray somethin'
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| Taught to stay thuggin' brought up in this shit that we call America
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| And in my hood the laws are scared of us — we are too terrible
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| If I live to be old, it’s a miracle
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| Cause the way a nigga hatin' or bitch plottin', the shit’s hysterical
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| That’s why I keep me two big guns on blast like a stereo
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| Come to your burial and kill anybody else who care for you
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| Don’t blame me, society changed me
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| You haul white, you smash powder all night for the fast dollar
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| Cut off lights, we masked riders
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| The hood trash got us in a position we can’t shake
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| With bars we can’t break, and due to that you ain’t safe, bitch
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| We done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!)
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| Now, we done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!)
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| Look, we done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!)
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| Now, we done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up, nigga (Ooohh!)
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| (Did you see that?)
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| We hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!)
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| And we done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!)
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| (Did you see that?)
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| We done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!)
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| Now, we done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!)
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| Boy, look
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| We done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!)
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| Now, we done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!)
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| Look, we done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!)
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| Look, we done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!)
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| Nigga — we put holes in you bitch-ass niggas, ya heard me
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| We don’t barrow nothin', don’t fear nothin'
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| And ain’t nothin' you can do 'bout these (Hot! Hot! Hot!) Boy$, nigga
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| Let 'em burn, nigga
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| Let 'em burn, nigga
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| B.Geezy, Lil Wheezy, Juvy, Two Tymer |