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Check this out.
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*(Yukmouth talking)*
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Yes.
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2wice.
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Uh.
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(What's crackin?)
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Drink-A-Lot, Smoke-A-Lot.
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(Haha, is that right?)
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And Phats Bossi.
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Yes.
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All of my niggas ridaz.
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Check it.
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Chorus *(Yukmouth)*
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All of my niggas ridaz.
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small time grindas, pimps and big timers.
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Whether it's heiron or hemp wit China.
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Or got a bitch on the strip sellin vagina.
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Shit Is Real.
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One mo time.
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Verse 1 *(Yukmouth of the Luniz)*
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Niggas fat
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nigga I come down strikin from the clouds like lightnin
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and smoke the ground
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show you how to blow a pound
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wit out coughin
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how to work a Nina Ross wit out walkin
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funny style
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wit out a half honey child jockin wit out flossin
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my niggas could peep out what I'm thinkin bout, wit out talkin
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one look at a crook
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my nigga book, an then the Tech start barkin
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shoot up the whole parkin lot
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bullets ricochet apartments
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got bitches slangin martian
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wit big titties like Dolly Pardon
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in the projects
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dope fiends loose they check, then flip like Martin
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walkin down the street butt naked and crack rocks sparkin
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startin shit in front of my buildin
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here comes the sargent
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raid a nigga house, juss some days to pay a warrant
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that dirty varmit
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back to the Regime conglomerate
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where the climate
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is always sunny for money
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the small timers
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become grindas
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escalate to big timers
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pimp niggas got bitches trickin vagina.
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This Shit Is Real nigga!
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*(Chorus)* 2x
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Verse 2 *(2wice)*
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Give us rememory morse
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of course
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takin no short fa sho
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poppin the cop wit glocks
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like I'm Tupac Shakur
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cuz everyday we high as hell
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dope is what we try an sell
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nickle and dimes for buyin yayo
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til I got lines of clientele
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load up yo clip
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click-clack
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hold up yo shit
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get back
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if ya know ya shit
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admitt that
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roll up a spliff
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an hit that
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roll up the crib
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made a nigga cost mail
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you tried to post
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but ya lay 'em in a coffin
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the boss man
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whips up another batch
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pick up some other scratch
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wit clips and some other straps
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the 2wice suguest you stop
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cuz my loot no share
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cuz I invest in glocks
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How ya shoot that there?
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I do got playas
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pimps slash some hustlas
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that do got they rapid self
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pass them suckels
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I flip a Tech wit a muffle
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greet the flex wit my muscle
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the Luniz
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doin they thing-ama-jig
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an it must sell.
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*(Chorus)* 2x
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Eh!
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Shit is real!
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Verse 3 *(Numskull of the Luniz)*
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Niggas feel that
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when niggas found at
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Drink-A-Lot wasn't even found yet
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when 4, 15's was the only sound check
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yo, what happened to the side shows
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when niggas used to ride those
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Vet's and 50's
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to be connected drunkin rhinos
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when bitches was dusted
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sex was like "Fuck it"
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an no real nigga was ashamed to ride a bucket
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when shit was goin down
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we followed it
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if she ain't suckin dick by now
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she swallowed it
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wallow in yo guiltiness
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everybody candy
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and everybody rich like filthiness
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but I can still see this
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Ghost Town
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ridin to another status
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where everything is based on who the baddest
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we had Lil Kim's
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but they juss wasn't out the closet
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an now we got 'em fuckin wit each other on some Mobb shit
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Mobb shit
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Mobb one
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Mobb two
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an then I got a Mobb for when there's else to do
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get used to the crew.
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Verse 4 *(Phats Bossi)
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What?
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See all young guns
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where they come from
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blocks of hoodlums
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the fake shooks ones
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they get touched wit busted ear drums
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raw meat
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me an Keek Sneek we start the big beat
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if they mouth leak
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wit big heats
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get put to sleep
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Mr. Phats slash Jaco
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I'm out for pecos
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go for gusto
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Mobb villans we flippin Lexos
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never trust those
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dirty cats
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they get the wet nose
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get they head froze
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Thugged Out, playin in wet clothes
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the life of cut throat
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cut throat
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I'm in my hustle
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show my muscle
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flex off, then start to tussle
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young guys, pushin Hot Rods
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begin the saga
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blow like Hoffa
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stack chips like Godfather
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Shit Is Real.
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*(Chorus)* 2x
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-----------------
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Shit is Real
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Luniz |