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[Kurupt] Yeah, nigga, nigga |
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No disrespect to you |
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East coast |
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The West coast we got heat too |
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We gon' keep it real |
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G'd up (Y.A., Tri, Lil' Kurupt) [Verse One] |
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Okay, if I don't make it rappin it's back to jackin |
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Back to the click-clackin and the khaki jackets |
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I'm a rider, dat's why |
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I got that tat |
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And a provider, jazz got a lot |
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I ain't had |
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I'm a survivor, screwdriver, cracked steering column |
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Every event, book bag, gat at the bottom |
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I'm convinced, that my common sense intensify |
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Now I'm convinced it's, hoppin over fences [Chorus: patois speaker - best guess] |
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Six in de mornin you know they kyan't find no mo-ney, mo-ney [?] get money haffi feed my whole fami-ly, fami-ly |
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It was because |
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I load 'n buck gyal you know she a scared for me, for me |
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Because the tussle an' the hustle an' it rough and [?] to be me, be me [Kurupt] |
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Pistol's my specialty, and uh |
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I'm a gangster, my specialy, and uh |
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Fire I let it fly and toss, and uh |
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I'm a boss molotovs get tossed, and uh |
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Hey girl, what the fuck's the deal? |
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And uh You want the fake girl, or you want the real? |
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And uh Sixty-four |
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Chevy's all on |
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D's, and uh |
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Overdosin to |
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West coast |
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MC's, and uh |
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And you be thinkin you got me but you ain't got a thang |
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Niggaz claimin they bangin but they don't really bang |
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Since I [?] opposition position switch the game |
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Pistols whistle while missiles'll chip a niggaz frame [Chorus] [Verse Three] |
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I'm a pistol popper, 88 candy-painted |
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Cadillac dropper |
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Tanqueray and vodka |
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One-nine or thirty-eight, tec and a chopper |
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Infrared hollow pointed tucked in my boxers |
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I'ma keep it gangster y'all, fuck what the rest say |
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Keep a lot of dope and coke, like an ese |
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So please pay attention, this street shit is serious |
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My niggaz leave you bleedin like bitches on they periods |
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Contact your label, bring your best artists-es |
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Nigga we started this, verbally retarded shit |
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Entourage rider, we eatin |
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Budweiser |
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Throw away thirty-eight, brand new fo'-fiver [Chorus] [Kurupt] (The hustlin is hard) |
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Break 'em down nigga (It get rougher in my yard) |
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Gotti, nigga what (We say the hustlin is hard) |
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Please let's roll these suckers (It get rough and get it tough in my yard) [patois speaker ad lib to end] |