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(whisper)Strike the match
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Flame on motherfuckers
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My gun I aim lower
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My words is a flame thrower
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Watch me end yall with somthing
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that'll make your skin crawl
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I'm only 8 tall ok yall? But I lay down law
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And I lay down yall so y'all better praise(a) the lord
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No room to breath. Knowin shh
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And the shit I spit be red and orange
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And yall going to have to call it in like bomb threats
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Cuz I'm fire but, when I wet yall your gonna be drenched
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Laid up with ten, cause when I pull it out
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I pull in shouts like BLOW!
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Damn that shit was loud! See the crowd?
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They all seek cover when they see that black rubber
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Because this cat here, got no sisters or no brothers
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It was one alone
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Covered with shellack ready to die black
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Lets talk about guns, and how y'all don't bust none
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Thease niggas here, y'all doing lest busting lot of ducking
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Maybe a lot of fucking, cause all y'all bust is nuts
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Just give me room, nobody move, or yall gonna hear the boom
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If yall can get it on, then we can get it on
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We all can get it on... (x3)
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FLAME-ON MUTHERFUCKERS(x2)
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Ya niggaz packing gats and stones
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Fronting on your man clones
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Ya niggaz missed the ride, cause this nigga make ya moan
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Cause when I pull out its like AIDS, I make sure its full blown
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And before the grief (kiss kiss), kiss him on both cheeks
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Let him think theres peace
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And give him somthing to remember
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Corpse stiff, hands cold, and body missing till December
|
Sneakers off
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Close casket, blew his cheek off
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By the way be careful who you speak of
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Cuz I by the wall in the back, guaranteed and all that
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While yall in all black
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When I leave the place, drop the reef, in his moms lap
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Motherfuckers...
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Soon as yall think your beef is sweet
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I'm gonna lay in the streets
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and let y'all niggaz throw quarters on me
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Can you spare change for your life?
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Change for what? Thats when I pop up
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With somthing long, and put somthing in his ass like a thong
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I dont know what you thought
|
I'm gonna do you like I do a Newport
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And step on kid, smoking him down till his head gone
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Hook
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I'm straigh housing shit
|
Yeah, ya niggas is ballers
|
But I'm the nigga bouncin' it
|
if Ruff Ryders is announcing it
|
Ya know we get down for it, want every ounce of it
|
I dont care if you sellin it, this is music
|
how we sound with it?
|
Dont forget, we bust rhymes for it
|
skip town for it, get under the ground for it
|
So nigga, dont ignore it
|
Unless your ass is deaf
|
this is gonna be your last breath
|
Your last S. and S. check
|
with your hands crossed over your chest
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I dont give a fuck
|
what ever I gotta take care, I get it done
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If its money, I owe nobody
|
Except a few hot ones
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And if your 18 and under, this here's your last test
|
And I'm gonna teach you in the class
|
with the past tense, lil bastards
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C is for class or for casket. So get your books up
|
And if your doe is low, that C better mean for Cook Up
|
Dont tell me that you shook up
|
You konw I keep my stacks crossed
|
So that you gotta look up, and maybe we can hook up
|
But you know what? Then you woke up
|
Some body smoked you smoke up
|
You know what that mean
|
You broke, and you 'bout to get broke up
|
Hook (out)
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-----------------
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We All Can Get It On
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Drag On |