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Chillin' in the 6 |
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Smokin' the Cali, ice bucket challenge on my wrist |
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Young and black in the US, it's a challenge to exist |
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Stove a thousand degrees, I'm a graduate to a brick |
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Got me gradually gettin' chips |
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All my smokers grabbin' a sack of that poison |
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If you can push it, I'll give you points on the package |
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As he had it loaded and wrapped, |
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And they call him, I'm comin' back |
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Took a loss but on the next one |
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I'll make it back on the tax, nigga |
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I got it sellin' nickel bags |
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Elementary mathematics, nigga can you add? |
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Multiply, divide it and go re-up for at least a half |
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Smokers scared to cop cause we beefin, |
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Man where the geekers at? |
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Standin' at my window with my full clip |
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Malcolm told us we've been bamboozled and hoodwinked |
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Another Darren Wilson get a badge every week |
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R.I.P. to Michael Brown and mothafuck the police, bitch |
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I guess I got it sellin' nickel bags |
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I got it sellin' nickel bags |
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Real killer, drug dealer |
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I got it sellin' nickel bags |
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Real killer, drug dealer |
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I got it sellin' nickel bags |
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Same night Chris Childs punched Kobe |
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It was a Sunday, I had the Hyundai |
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Then I crashed it, leather jacket like Slash did |
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Face melted off the acid |
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I bought 40 dimes of the yia-yia |
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Downtown Brown, Julie Brown |
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Know the hoochies wanna do me now |
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Don Bronson, in all white like Don Johnson |
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You ever had to take a shit while you're trippin'? |
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Balls off, all the homies by the ball court |
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Shit hit like Little Richard on the boardwalk |
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I'm not the one for all the small talk |
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I'm like Christopher Lloyd, Big Noyd |
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Bitcoins, rosemary on the strip loin |
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Mike Tyson doin' endos on a Haro |
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Queens Center mall by the Sbarro |
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I guess I got it sellin' nickel bags |
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I got it sellin' nickel bags |
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Real killer, drug dealer |
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I got it sellin' nickel bags |
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Real killer, drug dealer |
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I got it sellin' nickel bags |
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I'm in the car, mellow with 12 nicks, the L's lit |
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I'm close to them niggas that do their bid and don't tell shit |
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Or far-fetch, them niggas be doin' the long stretch |
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It's not that we're heartless, we just usin' our heart less |
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You know stress cause niggas to forfeit |
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When I cut it, all my nicks'll be softer than Charles Smith |
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Lost grips of a nigga that hustled on dark strips |
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And street corners, so many police want us |
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Lookin' to feast on us |
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Remember older niggas and bitches would sleep on us |
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Suckin' their teeth on us |
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I touch down, celebrate like Vic Cruz |
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Spike Lee, got a front row seat to watch nicks move |
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Got no class like a nigga that skipped school |
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Fix your face 'fore I play the mechanic and grip tools |
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The block gleam every time that a cop scream |
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On the corner sellin' nicks that's giant like Hakeem, peace |
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I guess I got it sellin' nickel bags |
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I got it sellin' nickel bags |
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Real killer, drug dealer |
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I got it sellin' nickel bags |
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Real killer, drug dealer |
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I got it sellin' nickel bags |
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Looks like they caught me red-handed |
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When I land, niggas from the planet get stranded |
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And I ran cause I had a pound of Afghani |
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Watch that AK-47 stick up your grammys |
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And I want all the ends |
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For my niggas rounds of applause in the audience |
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Fake MC's get clapped up 'til they disorient |
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Get out your seat, cheers up if you want more again |
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The happiest days of my life been taken from me |
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Now I'm just a slave to the mic, wait, hold up |
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I don't think this chain fit me right |
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Got a couple loose screws so I write |
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Right brain trippy like..... |
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And I should let you finish too |
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I'm at Finish Line, should have finished school |
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Now you can't finish lyin', so I diminish you |
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They still get the teeth to show with no dentist tools |
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I guess I got it sellin' nickel bags |
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I got it sellin' nickel bags |
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Real killer, drug dealer |
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I got it sellin' nickel bags |
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Real killer, drug dealer |
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I got it sellin' nickel bags |
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