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Y'all ready for this? |
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Ha! I don't think so |
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Yeah! Oh, listen to this |
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We gonna come at ya |
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Yo yo yo, all my niggas say, jump up, doc broke out the kennel |
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A dog on four paws spittin' out the window |
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Jump up! It ain't no need to fight |
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We may squeeze the pipe, you gonna bleed tonight |
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I eat beans and rice, shit up a storm |
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I walk the streets with shark fin off my arms |
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Doctor Dolittle, lit off the bone |
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My bracelet like |
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I raised it off the farm |
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Home-grown, thick, dirty |
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My family feud dudes who pack 2's on survey |
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Jersey and house gun like an elephants snout |
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Pull ya ambulance out |
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Ya whole team'll get bombarded |
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Ya on target and bombed by some unsigned artists |
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We leave ya hair cut like a blind barber |
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Cut it, and gave you a line with fine markers |
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I won't leave till the job is done |
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Till the last prick nigga take ya wallet, run |
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Doc with the shotty and we both catch a body with |
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Cypress Hill |
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Yeah!We don't give a fuck, we live it up till the day we die |
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You try to deal with us, but you got no blunts to get high |
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You won't be real with us, but ya reelin' us and you want to ride |
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You try to deal with us, but you got no blunts to get high |
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Yo, yo, blunt smokin', half a bottle of |
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Remi openYou either holdin' or half-assed like semi-colon |
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I leave ya chokin' on them lollipop, rhymes ya callin' |
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So hard, hell |
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I crack the shell on ya candy coatin' |
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If the shoes fit like |
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Alan I be too thick |
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Ever since you hit, yo my new chicks a new bitch |
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Ya know if |
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I can't eat, ya can't sleep |
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Plus I'm in denial, |
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I just can't admit defeat |
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My mind is my |
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Glock, keep my third eye cocked |
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Bust mines off tops, leave a rapper's nerves shocked |
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Now who's hot and who's not |
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I want them rocks and that money in ya two socks |
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Meth the mister, if crime is an art, then let me paint a picture |
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I'm gone, |
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Kodak can't even frame the riddler |
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Gold realin', |
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Meth, doc, |
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Cypress Hiller |
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Whoever think they fuckin' with that, let's be realer |
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We don't give a fuck, we live it up till the day we die |
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You try to deal with us, but you got no blunts to get high |
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You won't be real with us, but ya reelin' us and you want to ride |
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You try to deal with us, but you got no blunts to get high |
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Take the back seat and smash beats |
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Smoke blunts through ya lungs and flips ya brain cells like athletes |
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Run a track meet, the rhymes on ya rap sheet |
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With the foot long crush bong, look your collapsing, sicko |
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They go on the break-off, mental breakdown |
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And shit you wouldn't think of |
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I spread it to |
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Reggie, chances are better but deadly |
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You wanna be friendly on the get high |
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BentleyYou twisted up, burnt out within seconds' |
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Cause you couldn't hang with the |
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John Blaze methods |
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Bong hittin', doc spittin', shark bitten |
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Star stricken, |
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Glock clickin', stop shittin' |
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Inhale the smoke from the master's lungs |
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You wanna roll up, yo |
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I'm the fastest one |
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You wanna test with the sess, well first off |
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That shit is funny like |
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Kid Rock with his shirt off |
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We don't give a fuck, we live it up till the day we die |
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You try to deal with us, but you got no blunts to get high |
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You won't be real with us, but ya reelin' us and you want to ride |
|
You try to deal with us, but you got no blunts to get high |
|
We don't give a fuck, we live it up till the day we die |
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You try to deal with us, but you got no blunts to get high |
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You won't be real with us, but ya reelin' us and you want to ride |
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You try to deal with us, but you got no blunts to get high |