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I do this for tha block, |
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I do this for the hood |
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I do this for tha streets 'cause the streets keep me good |
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I do it for tha hustlas, |
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I do it for tha thugs |
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I do it for the |
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Gs 'cause tha |
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Gs show me love |
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I came in tha game seventeen, real loud |
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Only thang on my mind, make my momma proud |
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Started rockin' crowds, gettin' dope from shows |
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And as tha fame rolls then came the hoes |
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Then came tha clothes, then came the cars |
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Next thang |
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I know, I'm a ghetto supastar |
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So here come tha haters, travelin' by tha packs |
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But neva mind them 'cause a, bitch, |
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I'm backI pour up a cup, fill the swissa with cud |
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And fire it up so |
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I can gatha my thoughts |
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Mo' money, mo' problems |
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They say that's how it is when ya live like a boss |
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You see, I been on my grind for some time |
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And tha streets thought a nigga fell off(Hell no, nigga) |
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But if I decide not to rhyme, no more rhymes |
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I'm a still be well off 'cause, bitch, |
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I'm backA born boss, got nothin' to lose |
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Still shinin' in the game, got nothin' to prove |
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Got rich independent, didn't need no deal |
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Had paper before |
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I signed, didn't need no meals |
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Got hustles on tha side, |
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I ain't got to rap |
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And if all else fails, |
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I still got tha trap |
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I don't, with you rappers, y'all fake to me |
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I don't, with you niggas, y'all snakes to me |
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I don't care 'bout fame fuck bein' a star |
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Let dem take all the pictures, just gimme his car |
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Then gimme his house and his watch and chain |
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On tha bank account, credit cards jot my name |
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But I guess one come with tha other |
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So here I go, |
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I'm a writin' rap hustla |
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I'm too blessed to complain about that |
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So where I gotta sign? |
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Take ya pictures' |
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Cause, bitch, |
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I'm backI pour up a cup, fill the swissa with cud |
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And fire it up so |
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I can gatha my thoughts |
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Mo' money, mo' problems |
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They say that's how it is when ya live like a boss |
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You see, I been on my grind for some time |
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And tha streets thought a nigga fell off(Hell no, nigga) |
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But if I decide not to rhyme, no more rhymes |
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I'm a still be well off 'cause, bitch, |
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I'm backThey say tha truth will hit, so fuck it |
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I'm a go an' keep a hundred for tha public |
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I dropped already platinum but it only sold gold |
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And niggas lookin' at me like |
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I sold my soul' |
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Cause I'm rappin' with |
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D and not mista |
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LeeBut when ya on ya grind, sometimes ya can't see |
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Before Mike came and |
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Paul was signed |
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I was at interscope tryin' to find ma mind |
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Still tippin' wasn't toppin', three kings just dropped |
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And I'm a underground artist tryin' to get on top |
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So I listened to my label, playin' to break [Incomprehensible] |
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And learned a whole lotta game from that |
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Just stay true, my nigga and do you? |
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And, what another, tryin' to tell you to do |
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Continue to spit facts, you can bump in them lacs |
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And oh, yeah, this a |
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Lee trackBitch, |
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I'm backI pour up a cup, fill the swissa with cud |
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And fire it up so |
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I can gatha my thoughts |
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Mo' money, mo' problems |
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They say that's how it is when ya live like a boss |
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You see, I been on my grind for some time |
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And tha streets thought a nigga fell off(Hell no, nigga) |
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But if I decide not to rhyme, no more rhymes |
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I'm a still be well off 'cause, bitch, |
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I'm back |