| Boy, you ain’t shit
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| Muthafuckin' right, this my intro, my nigga
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| Allah Math, that was a good one
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| One love to the God Inf
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| In my heart baby, one, one
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| Stapleton, the Wild West, Park Hill (we gon' freak
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| This shit like this)
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| Port Richmond, Now Born, Jungle Nilz
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| I’m screamin' long live The W
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| I see you fools through the same as my brothers do
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| Now can somebody tell me who let them dogs out
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| And watch these villains tear the roof off they dog house
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| Who got that champagne, got that remy, got it good and plenty
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| Who only got a few friends, and they not friendly
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| And to scrubs, I might just blackout and blow your lightbulb
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| We turn night clubs to Fight Club
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| That’s what happens when you invite thugs
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| The bouge function with haters and busters
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| And big head Hollywood hoes, let’s get the fuckers
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| Guess who, you like Meth who
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| Now let me show you what the tech do
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| Spit when he talk, and word wet you
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| It’s the return of the su-super sperm
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| Mackin', lovin' my perm, have ya, fling out that burn, bitch
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| If you don’t know me, then you better know my flow
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| Meth Jigga what, Jigga who, jiggalo
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| I don’t usually do this, but keep the party going (uh-huh)
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| I don’t usually do this, but keep the party going (nigga)
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| I don’t usually do this, but keep the party going
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| Yo yo’ing, yo, yo, yo, yo’ing
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| I’m screamin' long live The W
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| I see you fools through the same as my brothers do
|
| Now can somebody tell me who let them dogs out
|
| And watch these villains tear the roof off they dog house
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| Is it the fortune or fame, that make y’all change
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| Got Milton Bradley hatin' the game, playas hatin' the same
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| Y’all know his name, no need to mention or to explain
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| What I’ve been through, how I get down, or why I came
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| Let’s talk about this flame in my mouth, I can’t contain
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| Some weed pocket change and some brain I can’t complain
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| Now, I heard y’all ladies got them thang thangs, do you really
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| Park Hillbillies, come from down south, slap ya silly
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| So what the dealy, with them Dutch Masters, really yo
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| Backwoods, and niggas that make herb with illio
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| I swear these niggas don’t know they ass from they elbow
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| Don’t know that I’mma strike, short of a shelltoe
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| Niggas around here, stick ya like velcro
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| Case closed, baby it ain’t safe no more
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| Come on
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| I don’t usually do this, but keep the party going (uh-huh)
|
| I don’t usually do this, but keep the party going (nigga)
|
| I don’t usually do this, but keep the party going
|
| Yo yo’ing, yo, yo, yo, yo’ing
|
| I’m screamin' long live The W
|
| I see you fools through the same as my brothers do
|
| Now can somebody tell me who let them dogs out
|
| And watch these villains tear the roof off they dog house
|
| If you can drink or smoke it
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| Whatever gets you by, everybody in here, high
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| You can drink it or smoke it
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| Whatever gets you by, everybody in here, high
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| We gon' keep the party going, Mathematics, Method Man
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| Panama P.I., yea, John 3:16
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| I’m screamin' long live The W
|
| I see you fools through the same as my brothers do
|
| Now can somebody tell me who let them dogs out
|
| And watch these villains tear the roof off they dog house |