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he used to get straight A's |
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nowadays get way payed is the pet phrase |
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set the stage, preferably night time |
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daylight reserved for research and writin' rhymes |
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things is harder than the tarnish on the garnish |
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and his gold seems to ?, gosh darn-it we, we hold heat |
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goin' all out to the fullest, all dipped |
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chrome four-fiddith, no bullets no clip |
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black electric tape over the hole in the handle |
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if you hold it right and hit 'em with it they can't tell |
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but still, you gotta be careful |
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dudes be so scared they cop pleas by the earfull |
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v personally favors, "please dont kill me" |
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empty out your pockets and I probably wont willy |
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but if you don't hurry up and shut up, I'll kill ya |
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so lay down and count to a hundred loud will ya? |
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when the nickle gleam like its greased up |
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thugs turn to icicles, hard rocks freeze up |
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this could all be a distraction just to buy time to blast you |
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so keep something to cut in case you has to |
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if he was on the island he'd probably rob a millionaire |
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and be known for wilin' out like Bob Dylan here |
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these clever war tips |
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you wont get from cats who never wore skips |
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now lets get down to brass tacks |
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follow procedure and count stacks like nasdaq |
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dont be caught snoozin |
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in the early morning hours from a long night of boozing |
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stick 'em up chump, you know what this is |
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do the right thing you might live to see your kids |
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all he said was "c'mon don't shoot!" |
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so shook I think he shit his sean jean suit |
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why you starin'? run your chain like an errand |
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and your girls earrings, and what you wearin' |
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survival tactics for when things get too gritty |
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he feels its his duty to the people of the city |
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just so long as nobody get hurt |
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it keep your average citizen on point and alert |
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and don't forget to check her d-cup |
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now I bust how he got this duck for his re-up |
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then he's back on the bricks, smokin indo' |
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never let a handy fiend fix your broken window |
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oh, who wanna hate the witty lurker |
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who follow y'all on the late, dressed like a city worker |
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ok miss, come up off that bracelet |
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just got your hair did don't make me waste it |
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so, go to hades get the devil for his stash |
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but no old ladies unless you're sure they carry mad cash |
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like the one from the liquor store |
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he watched her for weeks now, ready for the quick score |
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before he told her whore get on the floor |
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she pulled out and let off like quick draw mcgraw |
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damn yo, he lucky, she barely nicked the camo |
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he would've let her have it, if he had the ammo |
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its all in good fun, true |
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moral of the story son duke |
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senior citizens'll bust their guns too |