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(Intro) |
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Come on, uh-huh |
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Confidential, play hard baby |
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Come on |
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Uh, uh-huh |
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It really don't matter to me |
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It really don't matter to me (come on) |
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It really don't matter to me (uh, come on) |
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It really don't matter to me (what to do?) |
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It really don't matter to me |
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It really don't matter to me (uh-huh) |
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It really don't matter to me (come on) |
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It really don't matter to me (what to say?) |
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Yo, in the city, see catch run |
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I heard jewel, money squashed in the mark down |
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In the pure fidel, ain't no touchin' my click |
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Step to me wrong, I'm bustin' my clip |
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G felon, seperate the real from the story tellin' |
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More exclusive than the powder that these n***** |
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Play around, I'll numb you like the powder that they sellin' |
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Potna, don't you know you f****** with a mobsta? |
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I don't give a f*** about you, I spit 'em in Q |
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In a 6 drop-top, ?suited by Sue? |
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Just me and a half rippin' the turn pike |
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Broad all over me, can't even turn right |
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These rats and lease out get an earn right |
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Supposed to be the king, this here's my birth right |
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Small town, it's on now, let it be known |
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If you ain't ready to play ball, better be gone |
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I got dreams, everyday wishin' for cream |
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Wishin' for teams, thug style, plottin' a scheme |
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Now we high, rollin' with Teck, packin' bombs |
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Rolex with icey s***, freezin' the arm |
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Know who I am? |
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Mafia, rockin' that s*** |
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The one who got the man on his knees coppin' the 5th |
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Don't f****** take care, cuz you can see the balls we break here |
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Leave the one dead for all the cats who talk |
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Chop your body up, make the D's toss the chalk |
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Try me, watch the jury say we walk |
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I'm on some can't catch me, touch me, can't rush me |
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Some call me n**** but you pigs can't flush me |
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1 - It really don't matter to me |
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It really don't matter to me |
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It really don't matter to me |
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It really don't matter to me (what to do?) |
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It really don't matter to me |
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It really don't matter to me |
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It really don't matter to me |
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It really don't matter to me (what to say?) |
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Yo |
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Yo, I'm from the school of hard knocks |
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Streets, not books |
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F*** the dean's list, cuz he breed high crooks |
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And f*** a dope verse, cuz we spit hot hooks |
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And f*** you... one false move, know what I'ma blast mines |
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It ain't a threat, said it for the last time |
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Pull your fam through some sad times |
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In the streets, catch me with a Glock 9 |
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Suited up, power moves, they ran, had time |
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It's over, so consider it done, we marked |
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Got beef, then we get 'em a gun |
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If ya heavyweight n*****, we get 'em in tons |
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And if you never took a L, consider it won, what |
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It's open season, all them C's, let's get it on |
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Who wanna come down and test Cajun? |
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I'll slaughter all of ya if I wanna, heard me potna? |
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Y'all gon' learn how to respect your father |
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I'm the street scholar, squeeze tight on my trigga |
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And take what I want, get caked in my spot |
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Chief, I knock out teeth when it's drama, no doubt |
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Might as well be summertime, the way the heat comes out |
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I'm quick to collapse, so y'all better watch how you act |
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Cuz the the clip on my 3-8 will make my wrist snap back |
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And I draw like Doc Holiday, see ya tombstone |
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Cuz I'm ready, I'm so so ready |
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Repeat 1 |
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Repeat 1 |
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Blackground, thugs world, 2G |
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Never stop baby, what |
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(What to say) |
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Yeah, no doubt, what, what |
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(What to do) |
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(What to do) |