[Cassidy]:
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Look dog, you will never shine,
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Unless you come up with some better lines,
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And use your own flow instead of mine.
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So instead of rhyme,
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You should go to the cemetary and dig your own grave up ahead of time.
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You wanna cop some Jordans? I got the better kind.
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The bugs bunny straps n snatch the pat leather kind.
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I be on ? pipe where the pipers is,
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'Cus i be baggin up white in this piper crib,
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Makin' dimes like 20's twice as big.
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Man they fluffy like pillows, put you right to bed.
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Most of the real killers doin' life or dead.
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I could fight but i'll hit you with the knife instead.
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Or put that red light on ya head,
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and have led poppin' out the toaster like a slice of bread.
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I can handle gats, Im on fire like candle wax,
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My pockets lumped like camel backs.
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I got crack and packs of green daddy,
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If you a pothead or fiend just scream at me!
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And full surface is the team daddy,
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You tryin' to get a mean sixteen then scream at me!
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N*gga!
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[interlude]
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Ayo, the chit-chat fam get chu backhand,
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I rap man but i clap till the gat jam.
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And im a gat man, put tha mac wit the airholes to ya earlobe,
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You sniff like scarecrows.
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You can't hate Cass cus i make cash,
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and i take cash, ya'll need to take baths.
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I laugh at you dirty ass n*ggas,
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Lil' cheap thirty dollar jersey ass n*ggas.
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You a bum b*tch cus you dumb b*tch,
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and when the pot come, you don't get a crumb b*tch.
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You sound real fake on them mixtapes,
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Screamin' how you get cake 'cus you flip weight. (nah n*gga)
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You tell jokes, you don't sell coke,
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You just wanna roast 'L's n inhale smoke.
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You broke, be ashamed of yourself,
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Get on ya knees and squeeze that thing on yourself!
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I split domes if a youngin' get grown,
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I grip crome, keep the piece on the hipbone. (homez)
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I spit dope n*gga wanna get poked?
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I get coke from a spic on a fish boat.
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I hug blocks and you not a thug 'ock,
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But you dont get the picture till u get a mugshot.
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If you a scared man, you a dead man,
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I put led in that man on ya headband.
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'Cus i done work, put in dumb work,
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Slum work, and im nice with the gun work.
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Man my gun spray 'cus im like monday,
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through sunday with the gun play.
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Come through a back street with tha lil' wack jeep,
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and imma clap heat and put ya brains on the back seat!
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You cats is sweet and aint my cup of tea,
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Imma fuckin' G and Cass stay sucka free!
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-----------------
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Raw
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Cassidy |