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(feat. Trill Ent) |
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[Lil' Boosie] |
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Ugh! We dropped again on you bitch ass, niggaz! [Laughing] |
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Every album like a bird! |
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If you buy Trill shit |
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Then you buy that real shit! |
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And the D.A. and the judge gone get it |
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If they don't free Pimp C, bitch! |
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And when I drop shit, it's hot shit! |
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You know I ain lyin' |
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I only gave y'all half the shit, but I got more in my mind! |
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If you heard that green and yellow cd |
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You bout love a lil nigga! |
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You a girl, in this thug world |
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You might wanna fuck a lil nigga! |
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I don't really give a fuck |
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About the fortune and fame |
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I want the money |
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So my daughter wouldn't have to beg, no mane! |
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I'm in the studio, daily nigga! |
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With my pen and my pad |
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Where I run rhymes about my life |
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And how I'm missin' my dad |
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Dedicated, to makin' these hundreds |
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I get paid for my shows |
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Niggaz hate it, cause' my name |
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That's what takin' these hoes! |
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Thirty-six zones, on the fuckin shelf at the stores |
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Ya better get before it goes!... And |
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[Chorus: x4] |
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Every album like a bird... steady flippin! |
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Every album like a bird! |
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[Lil' Boosie] |
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My first album was bout a 7 (It was aight) |
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But I talk me some shit |
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About this world |
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About these girls |
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And how I dog, my bitch! |
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My next album was bootleg |
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Ain even come to the stores |
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Cause a nigga stole it |
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And they sold it for the price of some "O"! |
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Six months later, they heard that "For My Thugs" |
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The cd that have you niggaz and bitches tearin da club up! Huh! |
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Ain nothing but raw rhymes |
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No flashy shit, just hard times! |
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Nigga don't wanna hear bout ballin |
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If he ain' got a damn quarter! |
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Ya hear me talkin' |
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But to see that ghetto D, that's real shit! |
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Cause I'm feelin' the power |
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Cause I get 5 G's, to be on stage, for a half a hour! |
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Shit, I heard... (Don't say no names)... wanna holla! |
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I want 2 billion dollars |
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Not no million, you dick rider! |
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I got two 24, 80's dawg |
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They filled up! |
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With shit that'll make you get kill |
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Or even kill us! |
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Then I drop... huh! |
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Then I drop again! |
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And I get sicker every time |
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I touch dat fuckin' pen!... And |
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[Chorus] |
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Every album like a bird in a corner store |
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Keep it real boy |
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Trill got the good dope! |
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See grill, big bills, with a thick hoe |
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About an ounce of that good dolja |
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We gone big blow! |
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Wanna beef, motherfucker? ! |
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Ain no problem with that! |
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I barely hit you in ya chest |
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Made it come out ya back! |
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And while you put yo look on hard |
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I be rippin them tracks |
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And by the time it hit the shelves |
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I'll be gettin' it back! |
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So many niggaz playa hatin' |
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So I'm totin a gat |
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Pistol grippin', steady waiting on a nigga to act! |
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That's how you livin' when you on |
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And ya got that crack |
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And wake up with a new bone |
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I can get left flat! |
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So fuck that, ride strapped |
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Give another nigga what he deserve |
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And I'm a keep a bad bitch |
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Cause I'm flippin' these birds! |
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Trill niggaz bout to fuck it up |
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I know you nerv (nervous) |
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Because them niggaz got dope in them birds! |
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[Chorus] |