| I put my right hand to God, shine on these broads
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| Stay on my job, grind with my squad
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| Hundred racks on my car, no license at all
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| No tint on that thing, nigga, 'cause that’s how we ball
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| All these fuck niggas flawed, suckas and frauds
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| My circle so small, stick to my script and just ball
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| First I pick up my bitch, and we shut down the mall
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| Had to pick up the tip, she tried to pay for it all
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| Bring some 'Gnac with my plate, garlic noodles and steak
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| Bouncin' out the valet, with all these tats' on my face
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| People looking like, «Hey! |
| Black nigga' stay in your place»
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| But it’s some shit they gon' think, and it’s some shit they gon' say
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| Got to a brick from an eighth, see that music’s my fate
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| Switched it out from out my trunk, went to the top of my state
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| And I Versace’d my waist, like 2Pac in his hey
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| Bryan Williams how I built this All Money Estate, whoa!
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| I put my right hand to God
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| I put my right hand to God
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| Put my right hand to Jesus, fly like a eagle
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| Fight with these demons, shine light on my people
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| This life is a free throw, success is a kilo
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| My wife is a C-note, but my mistress is Creole
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| I sip on that Clicquot, while I’m bangin' that Z-Ro
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| Ghetto nigga' like Cheeto’s, that got more famous than Cee-Lo
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| Turn legit from illegal, just like Pesci in «Casino»
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| Get J-S off a P-ro, watch him blow up like C4
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| I rose from a Regal, Auroras and Lincoln’s
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| Low-pros on Alpina’s, to German drop top two-seaters
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| Was young and prestigious, phone was matchin' my beeper
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| How the fuck you gon' reach him? |
| He makin' more than his teachers
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| Movin' forward with speed, all your morals’ll leave
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| Only focus is cheese, now the forest is trees
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| Got infected with greed, distort what you see
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| Your worst nightmare than me, is justifyin' your means
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| Hold up!
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| I put my right hand to God
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| I put my right hand to God |