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[young noble] (talking) |
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Outlaw, outlaw |
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Bring your mother fucking jersey mob |
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In the name of makaveli the don, the killa motherfuckin kadafi |
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[akwylah - verse 1] |
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Everybody wanna know how i live my life (pucka) |
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Where's my balls? (pucka) |
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Where's my ice? |
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No matter now i answer then, feel my stripes |
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You keep poppin shit, i'll pin my knights *dying* |
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At your grow dega |
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Smokin on your drow flavor |
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Spit some pimp shit |
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Then dip with your old neighbor (come on) |
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And if you really, feel some type of way about it |
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Run up in your hood, then i'll shoot my fuckin way about it |
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This jersey mob, outlaw, akwylah |
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To my crew selling coke clinkin' cock dollars |
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We in the same game, eat the pain, maintain |
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All the snitches wanna see us in chain gangs |
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The hate for traitors, that's all a cop thought of |
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We live stool pigeons smokin in salt water *pigeon* |
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Only my lord and our crew know what happened to him |
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His family prayin 'cause one day they might back into him (uh-huh, uh-huh) |
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[smooth - verse 2] |
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With nothin to loose, i walk through clutchin my tools |
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Ice-grill make you wanna say what's fuckin with smooth (yo, what's fuckin |
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With that nigga?) |
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I'm sick of these crews, actin like they've been payin dues |
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I put the heat to em, tell them niggaz kick off they shoes |
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What would you do in the position when it's us against you? |
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That teflon mother fucker, can your head take two? |
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Shut the fuck up 'fore your luck's up |
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What you gonna do when your shit's up |
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Besides get dissed on nigga, and pistol-whipped up |
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Tied up, mouth taped up, layed out, and hit up |
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Leave you in pray, gotta give you a napkin to wipe that shit up |
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After the fact, holdin in time, shit up for lit up |
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High drilly and shit yeah nigga you know the mix-up |
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We that squad for real, jersey mob for real |
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It be kill or be killed, so we drawin that steel |
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I'm lovin the rush, essex county doublin us, fuckin with us (yeah, yeah, |
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Yeah) |
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We ownin enough, them rollers is bust |
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[chorus - akwylah] x 2 |
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(murder - repeated in background of chorus) |
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Murder made easy for dummies |
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Before you pull the trigger |
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Hit his pockets, take all his money |
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First you gotta be smart |
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Check his race and his bag |
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To see if he's strapped |
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And hit him once in the face |
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And that's that |
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[trife - verse 3] |
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Well where you at then? |
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When i needed you the most |
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I hit rock bottom |
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I couldn't see that we was close |
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Yo box, watch em |
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Now they all champaign |
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Ballin campaign |
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Yeah that nigga fall in the rain |
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Dirty ya joints poppin like you greasy burger enflamed |
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Every verse i drop's another small piece of the pain |
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Shit'll never be the same |
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After we got burned |
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Niggaz is burnt out |
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And yo there's nowhere to turn |
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Like court adjourned |
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Without a quarter to burn |
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Short of return |
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To the same game in order to earn |
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Y'all niggaz don't learn |
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I ain't concerned by far |
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Spit six bars like gem-star, stitches, and scars |
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Niggaz dry snitchin, yo they intuition bizarre |
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Picture me starved |
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Without a partner, pitchin is hard |
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Listen, my jaw, to find the right position tomorrow |
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Is mission imposs? |
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I be yellin really my eyes |
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Niggaz kill me when they nod like they really alive |
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[kastro - verse 4] |
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You ain't shit without your homeboys |
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Y'all ain't no grown boys |
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I feel it all and no voice |
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Now you stuck with no choice |
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Get on the ground, give up your property |
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It's like monopoly |
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With jersey mob this time, they're ain't a mother fucker stoppin me |
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That's why i pop three in my throat |
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Wait for my shit to drop and it's murder she wrote |
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Forgot to pull it close |
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And i got enough to go around for everybody challengin |
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Guns, never silence, i'm still wildin like allen |
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And mister jeru, well it's mob. all that deep shit |
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You can keep it |
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Fuck frontin, i ain't never kept a secret |
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My dog's swift, doin the hard shift in the jail |
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I'm still sendin the mail |
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We livin' in hell |
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My mom dukes told me 'life is what you make it' |
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So watch yours close |
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And the outlawz will fuck around and take it |
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I got these spinks payin a hundred a gram, fifty for half |
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I'll get em for thiry that's why i dump at last |
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Chorus |
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[napolean - verse 5] |
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We catch niggaz at the stop light |
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And do what's not right |
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It's worked for centuries |
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To the og's and peace gites |
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We seat night, and we run through your chest |
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Got a bitch with your name on her breast |
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Up to set up your death |
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We watch your ass for ten months |
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If we gots em (yeah) |
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Then the first mistake you make (see them) |
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Mother fucker we gots you (got em) |
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We do it so cold |
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We make your niggaz think they saw a ghost |
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You untouchable niggaz don't even know we so close |
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(right next to you nigga) |
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Coast to coast, we spread so rapidly |
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Man, the niggaz sittin next to you answer to me |
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Cause we can touch you when we want to |
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So watch your tongue |
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We listenin closely man |
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Y'all know have no one |
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We got guns |
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Plus the ones that pac left (uh-huh) |
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We got enemies |
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Plus the ones that pac left (uh-huh) |
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We bang thug life, outlaw |
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Cause that's our job (yeah, yeah) |
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We backed by the mob |
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And we hittin these niggaz hard |
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So what? |
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Chorus |