| I’m the dead body creepin' through the streets on the East side
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| Took about 3 shots, victim of a homicide
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| Do a drive by in a second
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| Leave ya all bloody, and tattered lying on the pavement
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| Nothing can save ya, when I’m in a homicidal rage
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| Nut up, and then start unloading the 12 gauge
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| Sawed off pump in your ass bitch
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| Say your prayers bitch
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| Cause your headed to the casket
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| Then to the graveyard
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| A lil advice, never perpetrate and act hard
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| Cause when you are dead, muthafucka ain’t shit to lose
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| Still gettin my hustle on, and payin helly dues
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| Ain’t got shit to prove to you marks and you bustas
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| Always stay strapped cause you know I can’t trust ya
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| Lights out, before I put ya in the dirt
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| It’s ya dead homie Blaze, bitch I go to work
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| I go to work everyday
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| Baggin up yag
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| Clockin' major chedda loke
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| I’m all about my paper roll
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| I go to work on the East side jackin sucka bitches rides
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| Doin hella drive bys just another homicide
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| I go to work everyday
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| Baggin up yag
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| Clockin' major chedda loke
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| I’m all about my paper roll
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| I go to work on the East side jackin sucka bitches rides
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| Doin hella drive bys just another homicide
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| I go to work in my neighborhood
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| Puffin' on blunts, baggin up yag and always up to no good
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| Cause I’m a gansta, been to the grave and back
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| So stop on my corner, and get your fuckin' car jacked
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| Cause I don’t play like my homies always say
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| We runnin' with a hatchet Psychopathic ay yay
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| Every day ya homie Blaze, is on the streets
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| Bouncin' downtown, brandishing heat
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| Until just the other day when I was walkin on my own
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| A sucka tried to hit me for my stack and my cell phone
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| Tried to play me G, till he got a peek of my pitch black eyes
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| Right before I shattered his teeth, and broke his jaw
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| Then watched him fall, lifeless
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| You should have seen his face it was priceless
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| Just another lesson hoe, with disgression hoe
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| Cause through the streets I lurk, I go to work
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| I go to work everyday
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| Baggin up yay
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| Clockin' major chedda loke
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| I’m all about my paper roll
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| I go to work on the East side jackin sucka bitches rides
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| Doin hella drive bys just another homicide
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| I go to work everyday
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| Baggin up yay
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| Clockin' major chedda loke
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| I’m all about my paper roll
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| I go to work on the East side jackin sucka bitches rides
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| Doin hella drive bys just another homicide
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| Now I’m rollin in the jacked up bucket
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| Bumpin' Twiztid, puffin herb like fuck it
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| Make a left on the one way, thats when the boys in blue
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| Got behing me with they lights and sirens
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| 30 seconds of silence, then I unloaded the clip
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| Pumpin' on pigs wit the hollow point tips
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| So don’t trip, I still gots to get my grip
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| Rollin down the street, leavin em bleedin' by the scene
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| Then a right, left then a right, to a chop shop
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| Sold the bucket and a rock
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| To a smoked out bitch in a '92 Ranger
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| That’s the way it is in the life of a gangsta
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| Or a hustla, quick to dust ya
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| I could lose an arm, and still murder 40 of ya
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| Watch ya back when Blaze get his smirk on
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| You could be the next muthafucka I go to work on
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| I go to work everyday
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| Baggin up yay
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| Clockin' major chedda loke
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| I’m all about my paper roll
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| I go to work on the East side jackin sucka bitches rides
|
| Doin hella drive bys just another homicide
|
| I go to work everyday
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| Baggin up yay
|
| Clockin' major chedda loke
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| I’m all about my paper roll
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| I go to work on the East side jackin sucka bitches rides
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| Doin hella drive bys just another homicide |