| One, two
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| Yo, Oh No, what up papa?
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| Yeah, sun still shine, you nah mean?
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| I call my brother sun 'cause he shine like one
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| You nah mean?
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| Pack Pistol Pazzy
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| Pistol Gang Pazienza
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| Listen
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| Carefully wrote L’s, I order liquor
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| Son talked loud and he died with a whimper
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| Shooters in the cut like they hold a scissor
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| The watch is in the toxified liver
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| You need somebody popped? |
| We’ll rock for five figures
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| For less we could touch him and leave him alive limbless
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| Giant Rambo knife all of y’all bitches
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| Gut a muh’fucker, par, lie with the fishes
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| Allah word always gon' justify the Deen (Dīn)
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| Especially since the end gon' justify the mean
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| This the confession of revelation of a king
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| The most high, whole dedication to the ring
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| The orientation and resurrection of the queen
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| The glorification and insurrection of the being
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| Every variety of thought is obscene
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| The falsehood lies in the walls of the dream
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| Yeah
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| Niggas out of line, then we hit 'em with them thangs
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| You can see the blood still dripping from my fangs
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| First you hear the click-click, then you hear the bang
|
| Then you hear the bang, bang, bang
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| Niggas out of line, then we hit 'em with them thangs
|
| You can see the blood still dripping from my fangs
|
| First you hear the click-click, then you hear the bang
|
| Then you hear the bang, bang, bang
|
| No high hopes, so there’s no disappointment
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| Just another fly in the ointment
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| Y’all are like poison, this is why the TEC stay pointed
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| Emphatically non-cypher and disjointed
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| Them jump out boys will smoke to stay noited
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| Fam got jammed on the lamb and they
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| Tried to keep peace and got stuck in the middle
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| When son got touched, I got tucked for a little
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| The Pyrex like Benihana when the white cooking
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| The K-Frame turned his brain into rice pudding
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| We tried sight to the blind, but the night took him
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| We stay high like a 95' white
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| I reorganize a circumvent still
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| The banishing ritual of the pentagram real
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| It’s always in accordance with something that y’all feel
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| Magical philosophy, something that y’all kill
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| Yeah
|
| Niggas out of line, then we hit 'em with them thangs
|
| You can see the blood still dripping from my fangs
|
| First you hear the click-click, then you hear the bang
|
| Then you hear the bang, bang, bang
|
| Niggas out of line, then we hit 'em with them thangs
|
| You can see the blood still dripping from my fangs
|
| First you hear the click-click, then you hear the bang
|
| Then you hear the bang, bang, bang |