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* send corrections to the typist |
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[Verse 1: Boss] |
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Big ballin bitch like Boss come thru like it ain't no thang |
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Paper chase, hustlin nothin changed |
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Ask me again I'll tell you the same |
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Don't hustle the fame nigga, most of the game |
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Put it down in the street for mine |
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24/7, stayin on the grind |
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For days and days I shell at the cops |
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Enough grenades to get at the block |
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I'm a drug smuggler |
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Part bitch, part thug, part hustla |
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You lift my crib and I'm touchin ya |
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No love for ya, draw blood from ya |
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Cause a nigga like you dreamin to Boss |
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And you fiendin to floss, and who pounds is flown |
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We're bustin motherfuckas with the black game |
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Holdin them fiends and lovin my crack, in the front got bud in the back |
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Who can get more thugga than that? |
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From hookers and jacks, put the house up, bitch |
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I'm bustin the gat |
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[Krayzie] |
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Y'all niggaz always testing, gonna make me pull this weson |
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[Boss] |
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If money ain't the answer rephrase the question, dawg |
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[Krayzie] |
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Big Boss and Krayzie Bone is... |
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[Verse 2: Boss] |
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Runnin up in your town with an uncountable amount of numbers of mongols |
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Y'all mad we the real number owners |
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Rollin like big, Thugline nothin but runners |
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Trouble Boss, a double cross |
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A nigga named Krray they good as dead |
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From the b-o-double, doin double time |
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And these tricks comin up to bread |
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[Chorus: repeat 2x] |
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We on some thugga shit |
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We on some other shit that you ain't fuckin with |
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The thuggin don't stop |
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And you can't touch the clique |
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You know you love this shit |
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Take it to what we spit |
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The thuggin don't stop |
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[Verse 3: Krayzie] |
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I heard a silent motherfucka creepin up from behind ya |
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Bet ya didn't think that I'd find ya, huh? |
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With a nine or pump (pump, pump, pump) your shit'll be fucked |
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And I ain't even popped the goddamn trunk (trunk) |
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I bet they never saw a nigga bring the heat and be so cool |
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Freeze everything, nigga don't move |
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You can choose to be a fool and try to get away |
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But never make it out the room when the pump go BOOM! |
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Fuckin 'em up, scream \"fuck the world\" while I cuff my nuts |
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Real niggaz don't lie, hit 'em in the mind, everytime goddamn we live |
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Send 'em to the graveyard, who gonna save y'all? |
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Matter of fact motherfucka who paid y'all |
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You runnnin up on them niggaz you know gonna bust back? |
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Take no more shorts fuck that (fuck that) |
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Pistol control, we roll streets of the all know |
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If they run up I'll pop get your hand out my pocket |
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For the glock, glock shot 'em all on the floor |
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You dealin with some motherfuckin real niggaz |
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Thrill niggaz, we'll kill niggaz if they wanna kill me |
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Still runnin with the AK-47 ain't shit changed |
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Still got the same artilary |
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Bust at them bastards (bastard) |
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Me and Boss steady breakin it off in they asses (in they ass) |
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Wanna see me get glasses (glass) |
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Cause I be all in your face but you walk right past me (past me) |
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But that let a niggaz know they don't really wanna swang them thangs |
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Fuckin wit them thugs, the thugs... nigga the thugs, what? |
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[Chorus: repeat 2x] |
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[Verse 4: Boss] |
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Bare witness to Mrs. Gangsta |
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We're gun-toaters, blunt smokers, big bank folders, and high rollers |
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Quick to burn off into toaster for fun, this bitch |
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Judges wanna post as gorilla |
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Pimps, killers, and soldiers roll |
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You don't slip and we thought that we told ya |
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Know what Thug Luv nigga to bone ya |
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They can run your shit and bend a corner, scatter and spread |
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Like mustard jam them buzzards up and leave 'em smothered |
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Quick friends gats find ya like bookie and they down with me like fo' flat |
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Y'all niggaz got nuts, our niggaz got nuts |
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So we can go nut for nut see who first to crack and split |
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Like ya down like wipers |
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'Fore the motherfuckin piper pay the bitch |
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[Verse 5: Krayzie] |
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You motherfuckas feelin to feel it |
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Thugline put it down keepin it the real it |
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And I ain't really trippin of these niggaz |
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They say they gonna get me yet they miss me |
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(What?) Cause I've been here niggaz thuggin |
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Waitin for you motherfuckas to come bring it to me |
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Fuck waitin I'ma mingle with it |
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The nine millimeter and plenty more haters |
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If any more niggaz roll up put the cut I'm fuckin 'em up |
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When I hit 'em with the pump don't duck you gonna die |
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Fuck you, die, buck you, die |
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Reload, unload one more time |
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Hit him with the pump make sure he dead |
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He bled blood, we bail |
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Ask me if a nigga prepared for war hell yeah |
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[Chorus 'til fade] |