| Woke up at 7:30 early in the morning last week
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| Sun shining in my face, I wiped away the sleep
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| From my eyes, from the beginning — OH SHIT, what do you know
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| Two guys standin with guns at my bedroom window
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| I played it cool, peeped the tools they carried in they hand
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| Two three-fifty-seven Mags and one on the bedstand
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| I had my, piece under the pillow cause that’s just how I do
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| Started to reach for it, but then I guess they knew
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| One nigga started laughin and turned to his man
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| He said, «I don’t think that she knows about this plan»
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| His man, just smiled, and nodded his head
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| Aimed his gun at me and said, «Get out of the bed»
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| I complied, with his wishes, bent down, to grab my slippers
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| Nigga number one said, «Hey now, no funny business
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| Just, do what we say and everything’ll be cool
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| You’ll hear a lot of things today but that’s the #1 rule»
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| I said, «What the fuck is this shit, all about?
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| We can discuss the problem and y’all, can break the fuck out»
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| Nigga number one said, «That we not able to do
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| But there’s a tapedeck on your table with a message for you»
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| It said: follow niggas one and two’s instructions carefully
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| Or fucked up things will happen if you dare to be
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| A heroine, these orders come straight from
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| The President, of the American, People
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| Then the tape just stopped, I looked at my watch
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| Niggas one and two had they guns up cocked
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| And said, «It's time to go, grab your things and get ready
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| In thirteen minutes we all gotta be jetti, c’mon.»
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| Sitting in the, back of a van, with cuffs on my hands
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| Six secret service men in black, one nigga in tan
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| Who’s driving. |
| For three hours, we’ve been riding to
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| Route 33, to a very small island and unloaded
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| Niggas one and, two at my side
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| Number one glaring at me for the whole damn ride
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| They seem to, travel in silence, express themselves in violence
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| And I’m the target, shoving me back and forth
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| With very very big guns
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| What would you do in this situation?
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| No place to run in the remote location
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| Kept my patience, and stuck to the tape’s advice
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| Knew my crew could find me with the Negro Tracking Device
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| I wasn’t worried, but niggas one and, two hurried
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| They stepped, to the door, where the President was kept
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| Punched in a passcode, I watched the door slide open inside
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| Stood there we, and the President arose
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| And my people said, «Drop the guns, hop in your van
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| Get the fuck off the island or we cappin your man»
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| The secret service men ran, what could they do?
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| Here’s a lesson — never ever fuck with me and my crew
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| Check it |