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Intro: Peter Gunz
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Feel it, feel it
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Coma ona, come on
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DA, DA, DA
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Where ya at(where ya at)
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yo
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Verse 1: Peter Gunz & Lord Tariq
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I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze
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Rice the illest shit & don't smoke no trees
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Niggas won't test, but they turn around & freeze
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Might get mic cancer the way I smoke m.c.s
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Nigga we did it all from flippin burgs to manipulating words
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Gettin less than four Os on a check is absurd
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I got the five it's feasible, but the six is preferred
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So when I step, you better have my shit corrrect, ya heard
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I'm in the ruber in the sand, gettin a tan playin frisbee
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With this quarter piece, sippin on coladas gettin dizzy
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On the celly with my broker buyin shares of stock
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Cause when it stops, I'ma still be sittin in drops
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And I'm in a benz, comin through, doin two, pumpin lilo
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Bought the cut jewels from Tif, cause the feds are watchin Tito
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Stepped up from an eigth, to a half, to a kilo
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To makin mils, off this label deal, that's for real
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yo
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Chorus: Peter Gunz & Lord Tariq
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PG:We will ball
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LT:Until my lady shoppin at Sach's
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and got the minx on they back, I tell ya
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PG:We won't fall
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LT:Until my players on the block doin it
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and gettin money in stacks, I tell ya
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PG: We will ball
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LT: Ladies with the pedicures
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manicures & they hair done up, I tell ya
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PG: We won't fall
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LT:And players ride around in V's
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pumpin our cd's, just turn it up.
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Verse 2: Peter Gunz & Lord Tariq
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I didn't ball with the best of them
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Fuck the rest of them
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Chickenheads don't mess with them
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Dimes ain't even stressin em
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It's all about franc & pounds & dinero
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The same shit that helped me get my six-zero-zero
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Nigga we ball, we take it all never dealin we fresh
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Talk jewels like I had my tongue dipped in platinum
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Tanqueray get me wet, I'm drippin in activator
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Drop the top on the porsche, hit the clutch see you later
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Well I tried to tell my P-O, screamed on the C-O
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Before I turn 3-O, I'll be C-E-O
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Young black millionaire, why you still in there
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Checkin asses, harass just some herb with the bashes
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If gettin money's a crime, well then I'm guilty as charged
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Filthy rich, Lord built to be large
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I'll have the city sick
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Pullin that silver shit out the garage
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Under the sun with yo chick gettin a massage
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Chorus
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Verse 3: ?, Peter Gunz, & Lord Tariq
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Well these bitches tryin to sleep on me
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Wop
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You shouldn't sign these niggas down they suckin d
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Drop
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And now they wanna sweat cause we double p
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Stop
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Got the nerve to call my office for a free cd
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Cop
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Man they said we couldn't do it but we it's done
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And they said we wouldn't win but we won
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They said it would be better if we run
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(together)
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But we ran to the top of the charts
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Platinum plaques when this rap shit was fallin apart
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Well she mention little Gunz, Tariq
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Staring good, take a taste, fix yo face bitch, ain't nothin sweet
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We just tryin to eat, the Bronx applyin the heat
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You estimate a hundred thou, we sold 5 in a week
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Chorus
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Outro: Peter Gunz
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We will ball
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We won't fall
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We will ball
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We won't fall
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We will ball
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We won't fall
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We Will Ball
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Lord Tariq and Peter Gunz |