| A lot of niggas is saying they don’t like me
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| Because I flow so tightly, my wrist wear glow so brightly
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| But I ain’t gonna quit, niggas know I go hard
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| And a dog don’t settle for shit
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| You might see me on the block, but if I see the police
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| I break out, cause I’m allergic to the cops
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| I just put up a 7−20's on the drop, I’m fin to take a vacation
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| With a couple of honies on the yacht
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| I be the don of this rap shit, and my album going platinum
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| Y’all niggas is going double plastic
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| Shit’ll get tragic, if one of you fools
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| Choose to make me use my automatic
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| Click-clack-blow, Curren$y the Hot Spitter
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| Here to show you niggas how I get down
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| Doing donuts in a Viper, and I probably won’t quit
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| Till I burn all the grip off my tires
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| Now everywhere I go, they ask what I live for
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| Money, hoes and clothes all a nigga know
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| And when I get my chips, you know what I’mma go and get
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| A house and kicks, and a couple of whips
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| Now when I pull up, niggas running like Trans cars
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| That’ll buck backwards, in a black Jaguar
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| You niggas is actors, Hot Spitter the truth
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| Set a fire to the mic, when I step in the booth
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| None other than me, around town
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| In the yellow Humvee, gun under my seat
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| You don’t want none of me, cause I’m the man
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| You can’t spit, like you lost just a life or grand
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| Man, why you niggas wanna rhyme like me
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| When I leave, watch the women run behind my jeep
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| Now peep me, stay smooth and calm
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| White Air Force 1's, white tux when I went to the prom
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| 100,000 dollar watch on my arm, everytime I step in the club
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| All the women watching my arm
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| The Hot Spitter, and I don’t give a fuck what you think
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| I got more ice than a super-size drink, holla back nigga
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| (*talking*)
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| Curren$y, Hot Spitter ya dig
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| Another Beat Boy thing uh ha-ha
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| Woo, Ezell Swang baby, S dot Bear
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| Uh putting it down, ha-ha |