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You can call me* |
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Mr. one two three |
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Mr. One Shot Deal |
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I'm leaving out with heavy dough |
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After every show |
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That's why my chain, watch, frame and bezzy glow |
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I pull through the P's, whip 'round the chevy slow |
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I ain't gotta tell niggaz I'm hot, they already know |
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I got big rooms with walk-in closets |
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It looks like Foot Locker when you walk inside it |
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You're dead broke so you can't pop your collar |
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And you gonna spend the whole summer eating off the dollar menu |
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I'm a grown man, there still a little child in you |
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And he gonna come out as soon as the 40-cal hit you |
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It's either that or get your ass beaten once a day |
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You're gonna need a magician to wipe the bumps away |
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My car worth more than your deal |
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I got chrome on the wheel |
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And four in the grill |
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If my chick was in flicks, she'd be the girl all over my balls |
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Mean head game, she suck the corn on the cob off |
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I'm the man in charge |
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Look at the damn garage |
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There's old schools, white, blue and camouflage |
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My rings are heavy, I could use a hand massage |
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The hell with the law, the cap, judge and the sarge |