| If you ridin' with your female acquaintance, explain this one to her girl
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| When you wake up in the mornin' go mail your man some pictures and a 20 dollar
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| money order
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| I gotta tell you somethin' else though
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| I remember the days when I used to jack my dick
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| And had to catch a bus, to go check a flick
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| Unless it was one of those nights I stole my sisters car
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| I brought it back on empty, simply didn’t give a fuck
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| Be my guest you can call my mom
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| Shes the one who gave me the nickname Teflon
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| Added the don
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| Impressed by the way I kept calm when searched by cops with boy in my palm
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| Shit, I’ve done see a lot
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| I might crack a smile, but i’ll clean your clock
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| I done did it before, matter of fact done it for free
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| If was free, he would of did it for me
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| Guns spittin' for me, Better go get it from me
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| Guess that 10 year sentence wasn’t fitted for me
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| But when your released, I got a few gifts for you
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| Half my record label, a quarter mill on the table
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| How many niggas you rode with will hold you down if you go to jail
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| Or put the Benz' up for your bail
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| Yeah, cuz if its fair it war when them riders start runnin'
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| Will they have to start gunnin'
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| In God’s name, free your pain
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| Sinc he was down, Carol City ain’t been the same
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| Seventeen years old, floatin' on gold things
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| The same pain was my nigga
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| He might buy you a sack, and let you blow the whole thing
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| And he might get you some head, won’t even know the hoes name
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| God damn, I miss my nigga
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| To be honest I wanna kiss my nigga
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| Hug my nigga, talk to my nigga
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| Kick the prison door in and walk with my nigga
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| I’ll stalk your nigga, chalk your nigga
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| If I thought your nigga was a cop oh nigga
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| Working for the cops came in for the talk oh nigga
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| If somebody finna' snitch, stop your nigga
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| If I spot your nigga, I gotta pop your nigga
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| I ain’t aiming at his legs but at the top of your head
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| Being a black male in America is a charge
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| Pullin' together your family when your brother behind bars
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| Fantasy of nice car, wanna know who we are?
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| All I say to the crackers is «bitch I got a job»
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| No I’m lying, But I’m talking about a —
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| Would of rather, seen em scatter
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| Chit chatter, my pockets fatter
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| Fuck your corporate ladder
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| Bein' intelligent today is a dagger
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| Look em' in the eyes whenever you speak
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| Make em' feel you were that close to gettin' a degree
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| I already want a reason to kick your ass to sleep
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| And they know these employees are far from bein' cheap
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| I was raised in these streets
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| Still one of the coolest cats you could ever meet
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| Besides its only the heat
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| I don’t give detectives reasons to fuck with me
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| I’m quiet, on the murder diet
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| I’ve seen flesh turn from brown to violet
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| Not one word, no need to dial it, hes expired
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| This is no longer desired
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| And last hired, until somone saw it in the streets
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| I’m the nigga |