| Them say no, and you come
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| That’s why you kill da king
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| King that he will fade away
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| But refresh everyday man
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| Now when it come to sum bizness
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| Its we that run the scene
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| Cause we fresh and green, come
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| Yeah, graveyard shift, meet the grim reaper
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| Sickle to your features, balance that like a Libra
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| Scale yeah I’m off that
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| Derailing all your thoughts on this track
|
| All this wax I should make a candle fac-tory better
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| Glory all facts his-tory in the making, I am that
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| (Chea, Chea, Chea, Chea)
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| Victory is sweet enough to eat, bon appetite
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| Pull up a chair and eat
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| You buffoons couldn’t walk in my shoes
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| If we were sharing feet
|
| Mind too cool, dominion can’t compare they just some glarin geeks
|
| In real life, perpetrate like mike only a pair of sneaks
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| Level 3, skeeter tried to squack I didn’t care to speak
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| Burgundy, polo went public I can’t prepare to teach
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| Smoking like Santonio Holmes
|
| When the camera go flash, I get the feeling at home
|
| Under the avalanche
|
| Guess that’s how ghetto survival, syndrome fuck the system
|
| A nigga woke up to get on screaming
|
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
|
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
|
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
|
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
|
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
|
| Uh,(yo, yo, yo) ah, yeah, yeah, let me get my shit off
|
| Dome piece a nigga his shit was gonna before I slid off
|
| Yeah, yeah, let me get my shit off
|
| Grab me a bag of work now watch how fast that fucker get off
|
| Yeah, have the money flipping in oz, go get up
|
| Throw somethin hot in yo oven dawgs
|
| Nigga, we motherfucking bout it bout it
|
| Get rowdy, rowdy, I’m a ghetto dog
|
| Go head inside it
|
| Yo, my niggas cry freedom like Nelson Mandela
|
| Played by Morgan Freeman
|
| I be walking with the giants like the G men
|
| Hit the pussy like semen
|
| Hood angels I be fighting demons I’m excited
|
| At the chance just to get even
|
| So I play the odds, pray to god
|
| Poker face chips like I’m playing cards
|
| My chick like Felicia Rashad in the face
|
| Hale Berry waist with the grace of sade
|
| I take her out just to party, everybody say
|
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
|
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
|
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
|
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
|
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
|
| Understood by those that blossom by MLK
|
| Cocooned in a one bedroom, interjects, all in yay
|
| Brainstorm philosophies on getting k’s and getting away
|
| On gang injunction with the jail for nathen yesterday
|
| Fuck the swines all they want is a cheaper nigga broke
|
| Contradicting tycoons and the candy crips and cigarette
|
| Porky gotta eat his heart When he see my super sport
|
| What they done to my folks
|
| I charge it to her pink toes
|
| They done fucked up and let this watts nigga get on
|
| It’s my time to eat so I’m bout to get my grill on
|
| George former ho, storm on the flow
|
| Steady getting fetti, either rap guns will blow
|
| Step inside this bitch they looking like wanna go toe to toe
|
| These hands like pitbulls and now I let these fuckers go
|
| So I think you need to let them motherfuckers know
|
| These choppers leave they fucking heads spinning like some stop and go’s
|
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
|
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
|
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
|
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
|
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah |