| Yeah it’s a picture; |
| yeah it’s a job
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| Maybe that’s why I do it so odd
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| Walk around just like I was god
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| Kick it so live, when I’m with the gods
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| Freeway strikin', we be lightin'
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| If I die, remember the titan
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| 22's, 25's, Chocolate 9's and 45's
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| Let em rip, all through the sky
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| This for the ones that hate that I’m high
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| When you see me, it’s no surprise
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| Tap your brain, and blow your mind
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| Bettin on Lakers, and takers and fakers, and makers
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| And mami we do it for paper
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| You come with the vapors and capers for papers
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| Its cool, someone I’ll call later
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| Me and my homies, love the bottle
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| Like Tyson loves Cus D’amato
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| So on them days you feelin’real bad
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| Think of the best week that you’ve ever had
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| Garlic tipped, and they love to hollow
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| Like Tyson loves Cus D’amato
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| So before you go to gettin’mad
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| Think of the best week that you’ve ever had
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| She like the Nikes, I like the 'didas
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| She like the Reeboks, and I like the Filas
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| She like the winners, and I like the cheaters
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| She like the lion, I like the hyenas
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| Spit some game, then hook up with Shaq
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| On the Playstation, I’m known to brag
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| Hook up with pimps that love the cash
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| Man you should see how we giggle and laugh
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| With of hearts of ice, the house is cold
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| Its like Slick Rick, without the gold
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| This right here is the life we chose
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| No excuses just go for gold
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| There’s no producing, this perfect pose
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| Hit the street in the freshest clothes
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| Rip the stage, and bless the shows
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| Spit the flows, and hit the do'
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| Most of my homies, love the bottle
|
| Like Tyson loves Cus D’amato
|
| So on them days you feelin’real bad
|
| Think of the best week that you’ve ever had
|
| Garlic tipped, and they love to hollow
|
| Like Tyson loves Cus D’amato
|
| So before you go to gettin’mad
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| Think of the best week that you’ve ever had
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| Don’t tell me twice, I’m out the door
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| Talk is not what I came here for
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| Into the night, like the star by the moon
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| The engine will rev, and the bass will go boom
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| Just like the pirate that sailed the seas
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| 13 thieves I do believe
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| Yes of course they run with me Flash our rings, or that there freak
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| Hot to handle, and hard to get
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| Easy to rip, and hard to fix
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| So rap your presence, I’ll spit the gift
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| Man you my homie, we’ll split the spliff
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| Ride like a maniac
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| All in the Cadillac
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| Tiga, whateva
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| I’m draped in leather
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| With angel wings, that rip the wind
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| And a safety grin of a p-210
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| Cuz all my homies love the bottle
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| Like Tyson loves Cus D’amato
|
| So before you go to gettin’mad
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| Think of the best week that you’ve ever had
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| Guns they lust, and they love to hollow
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| So before you go to gettin’mad
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| Think of the best week that you’ve ever had
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| …Like Tyson loves Cus
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| This life of ours, this is a wonderful life
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| If you can get through life and get away with it, hey that’s great
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| But it’s very, unpredictable
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| There are so many ways you can screw it up |