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Hey yo, this right here man |
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Is like a documentary of a gangsta, man |
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The rise and fall [Hook:] |
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How them boys gone play me, they must be crazy |
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Baby, you better pay me |
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How them actors gone act up, like |
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I ain't got back up |
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Back up, before you get smacked up |
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Why they wanna play games with me |
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They don't know that |
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I'm crazy |
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I don't know what they thinking |
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They must have been drinking, but look |
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I'm that kingpin |
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He said slow paper is your alto, it's like spitting |
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Currency is all about floss, like he can't eat his cake |
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And he starve, when the count low |
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He call the lab the bakery, he all about dough |
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Stuffing bread his pockets is hungry |
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You talking nonsense unless the topic is money |
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He call a hundred dollars a honey |
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Mami's he called them dimes |
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So his mind is on his money |
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But Mami's is on his mind |
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Like an O. |
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G. focus on the come up |
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Think he F'ing around he approach you with the gun up |
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Roll the blunt up and forget it happened |
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Stash the dollars, bag the product and get it cracking |
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He get pies, he flipping them |
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Tricks, he tricking them, he call them heffers |
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He Hugh Heffing them, he pimping them ?, he getting the ones for the connects |
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So have the ones correct when he come to collect |
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But here he come [Hook] |
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That sound like blood money |
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And I ain't just talking double dubbs club money |
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I'm talking drug money, move out the hood money |
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Double up money, you can catch a slug money |
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This kid will murder you, more than a business |
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If you live it for revenue, it's principle never personal |
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Get rid of you if you blocking the bigger picture |
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He on the blocking thinking of gwop and getting richer |
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He flips some urban blue, play with them keys |
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For them c-notes so he can handle the whole piano |
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Hammers unloading ammo if his army ain't in harmony |
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He kill his own famo like |
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Tony Soprano |
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He's trying to take it from mine and majored in grind |
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But the caper is mine, it's made up and die for the paper |
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Crime is second nature when you love cash |
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Doing dirty, he turn the ave. into a blood bath |
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Here he come [Hook] |
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The heater buss that mean the reaper coming |
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Drug money keep them bugging not the trees he puffing |
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Streets is buzzing about the repercussion |
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But he so much in love with his bread the beef is nothing |
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He got metals for war just like a veteran |
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But now he bringing cheddar in more than he ever been |
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Banked up, he stepped his hustle pimp smoked cold crack |
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Heroin game up, american gangster |
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Sleep with the fish while he rather loot and |
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You like balling, he like stealing and shooting |
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Comrades, customers, competition connects |
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And hustlers is wishing and plotting the day of his death |
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What's his focus? |
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Keys is, even when karma catching up |
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It's hard to set him up, he's always holding heaters |
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But yo, they know his weakness so they gave that bread to him |
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Somebody put a gun to his head, guess what he said to them [Hook] |