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(feat. Iman Thug) |
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[Capone Talking] [Noreaga talking in background] |
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I want *******s to bang out to this ************t |
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*******s drive drunk to this ************t |
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Drive drunk to this [x14] |
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Drive drunk drive drunk [x1] |
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[Chorus: Capone-N-Noreaga] |
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We doing this our way (yeah mother****** we doing it our way now) |
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I think its our way, I think its our way |
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If you don't like it hit the highway |
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(hit the highway ******* get the ******* up outta here) |
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I think its our way, I think its our way |
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We doing this our way |
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(yeah yeah we doing it our way like its ******g pose to be) |
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I think its our way, I think its our way |
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Til we hit hundred on the highway (five the six) |
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[Iman Thug] |
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Call me the black machine gun jack megern |
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Touching my good making sure the bastards learn |
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Smash the burn |
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No time for fronting its nothing |
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Gets yours while I get mine not nothing |
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We flows with the ratical |
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Tongue mathematical |
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Cut *******s bent up ************t with dirty attitudes |
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That's the way the world go round and round |
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Henny, bud on our dome like pound for pound |
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Peep the grimist |
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We high profile locist |
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Thugged out 41st side smokers |
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Now who you know |
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Get down like us |
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Gats bust empty out rounds that gust |
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Can't stand overpaid ass |
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Fronting ass ************ |
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Kicking to my *******s like they don't want ************ |
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Dirting in the club |
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While her man couple of a drinks |
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All my *******s in the V.I.P. doing our thing |
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[Chorus x1] |
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[Noreaga] |
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Yo money bust snaps for pocket |
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And I don't dance |
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I get head |
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And I don't even iron my pants |
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I got a dead steel |
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Yall *******s ran with your legs still |
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I.ll make you lose calories without the treadmill |
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From New York but still I been hating the knicks |
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And ******* jordan but still I be rocking his kicks |
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My ******* Nas told me |
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Take your hoe to the flicks |
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And if she don't give you brain then you dodge the ************ |
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We from Queens |
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The dro is like hard to get |
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We got to travel up to Harlem where its hot as ************t |
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Yo its Melvin the african godfather |
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So yo god bother |
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You wanna taste the revolver |
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I dead dun |
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I shot toe then run |
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Now stay mother****** give head to the gun |
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Stay on son |
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Itchy bon like number one |
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It's the QB album that us bless this dun |
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[Chorus x1] |
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[Capone] |
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I stand on the block |
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Fully baked hand on my ****** |
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Old heads flirting saying I resemble my pops |
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I put work in |
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I'm the street in the sickest version |
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No crowd *******s collect my person to person |
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I buck right if my left hurting |
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I'm double jointed |
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Ducking the cops they stay searching |
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The elevators ain't working the steps too pissy |
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Thoro bread god son rep the bridge with me |
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I pull up in the S50 plus five |
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Let the thugs fly |
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Now everybody tough guys |
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Its murder in these blood eyes |
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Like I ain't got ************t to live for |
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******* a thugs cry ******* shoot that's why god put em here for |
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I been on the booze hit a buck on the highway |
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Been in my shoes |
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I'm thuggin rich make my own rules |
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Its time glory and pain I'm still with kane |
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I got O's dog for six fifties remember the name |
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Capone ******* |
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[horus x1] |
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[All] |
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Ain't nothing but a Queens thing baby |
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Three bent *******s straight going crazy |
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Hennessy is the drink that fades me |
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Bang out to this ************t baby [x2] |
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[All talking] |