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Comin up tha muthafuckin block, its tha |
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Undertaker |
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Jus throw yo hands in tha air, dont move a muscle |
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I wont hesitate ta |
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Jus let you have it wit a few thangz |
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No need for runnin and duckin cause wit this missle pack, |
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I'm takin aim |
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Now all these methods, need to finish him |
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I took my sack out my pocket and smoked a blunt as |
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I diminished him |
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Intoxicated, rule number 1 |
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Pookie jus cant be faded |
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High off that dosha, |
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I don told ya |
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I was bound to make it |
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Niggaz smoke, forget that drama |
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I be tellin ya |
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Cause me and my crooks stay on cloud 9 on tha regular |
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And sense we crooks, jus some killaz we motivate to get cha |
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Pull out that knife and slit yo throat and watch yo body shiver |
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Jus will peel ya, hollow points is hittin quicker |
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Standin ova yo body and watchin that blood spilla |
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Say hoe, jus have a seat and listen thea to tha beat |
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As tha words come out my mouth and grab hard by yo feet |
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Penetratin to yo nerves, sendin signals to yo brain |
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As I post up on tha curve, do you forget |
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I'm tha blame? |
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Wit tha finastatic, lift up my shirt to pistol |
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I will grab it |
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Killin folks and smokin blunts, |
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I'm lettin these niggaz have it |
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Chorus[x2] |
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Visions of a |
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Silent One, loadin up an extra clip |
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Foes out to get me but these rounds will spill up out my clip |
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Trip and watch me throw some shit at yo head |
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No clear description of this face leavin coppers mislead |
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Now look into tha eyes of a muthafuckin crook (Whatcha see?) |
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Jus a crip azz nigga high as he can be |
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Wit them 3 mo crooks, in otha words, my motives |
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Be comin hard, |
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I told ya, and spittin shit so potent |
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And toastin to heavy burdens, nigga |
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I'm on my own |
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Gauge inside yo dome to solve tha problem at home |
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It's on, now tha pressure's on my back wit a tree |
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Damn I gotta hit a lick (Naw you need to hit that weed) |
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Stressin me is a baby momma gripin and cryin |
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Man I hope she aint lyin about this baby bein mine |
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And times is changin, you betta peep tha world around you |
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Comin up I'm bound to a |
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Southside clown fool |
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Mr. Pookie, |
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Mr. Muffit, |
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K-Roc and |
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C-Pone Rippin beats we see on |
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Smokin killa til we gon |
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Loan me them pistols so |
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I can make a dismissal, what |
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Wont need to dis you, leave you shitty like some tissue |
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Bitch you anotha havoc, cause boy |
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I aint gon have it |
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My Visions of a |
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Silent One release tha automatic |
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Let you have it wit tha gauge, buckshots come from every way |
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Got em lost in tha maze betta yet |
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I see you dazed |
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Be amazed by tha power |
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I posess, that |
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I stress Turn tha |
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S to a P on yo muthafuckin chest |
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It's best you keep yo distance cause nigga |
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I jus wont listen |
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Come on in my dimension and let's get into some killin |
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Chorus [x2] (Pookie please jus let me live, man) |
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Bitch would you let me live? (Huh?) |
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That's wha |
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I thought (Gun shot) |
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Surprise nigga |
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I hit that scene when you think |
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I wouldnt |
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Talkin shit to my niggaz now boy you really shouldnt |
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Cause tha pack in tha back of me they really killaz |
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Cut you up, body show nuthin but yo body shiver |
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Flossin that bitch that you wit and really shit to me |
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Cause I don already fucked that hoe |
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But you cant tell and you cant see |
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How a pimp that be me, be actin quiet and calm |
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Be quick to snatch yo bitch and leavin that hoochie body numb |
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Tha fun of her, lickin my back and my azz |
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Told me to lick up on her, but hoe now |
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I think I'll pass |
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I'd rather smoke on a blunt |
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I get so high |
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I get tweeted |
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I try to stop smokin so much, |
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K-Roc keepin me weeded |
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Jus back on off of me though dont wont no mo or no static |
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I'd rather reach for my gun, bust a pump, let some punk nigga have it |
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This nigga dont know where |
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I'm from homeboy you betta take a look |
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Because I'm out of clean and dirty, 13030 |
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Stoneycrook |
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Chorus [x2] |