(Chorus 2x)
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No questions for you too ask, no gats for you to blast
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No money, weed, no cash
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It¡¯s time to get in that ass
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Mr. Dead Folx, Colton Grundy Ya Dead Homie
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Don¡¯t be acting like you don¡¯t see me
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Believe me man you don¡¯t know me
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(Blaze)
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I was the first to put it down
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Reppin' with Twiztid and the clowns kicking the gangsta sounds
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Strictly keep it underground
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Lotus in the family, you now how we do
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Coming for ours and won¡¯t hesitate to ride on you
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Record sales don¡¯t make you bulletproof
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Big time, and we both know you don¡¯t be doing that shit that's in your rhymes
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You ain¡¯t a G like me, you ain¡¯t the thug I be
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You watered down, like the punks I see on MTV
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Where you¡¯re motherfucking trees, always asking for smoke
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Ain¡¯t it a bitch, everybody a G when wearing Loc¡¯s
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That¡¯s a figure of speech, and I be sick in the heat
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Whoever think he the shit, trying to claim my territory
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I¡¯m a motherfucking G with heaters loaded and cocked
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You¡¯s a small time pee-on, braggin of running rocks
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Bitch break yourself, for everything and then some
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Hold the mic to my dick, so you can hear me when I cum
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(Chorus x2)
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No questions for you too ask, no gats for you to blast
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No money, weed, no cash
|
It¡¯s time to get in that ass
|
Mr. Dead Folx, Colton Grundy Ya Dead Homie
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Don¡¯t be acting like you don¡¯t see me
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Believe me man you don¡¯t know me
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Never ever was I a bitch hoe,
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you can put that on my ten-fold
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Ma pop Grundy and them know I sicko
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Baby boy got banana clips for his chopper
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Known to bring drama somethin' proper
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Check nuts
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Colton Grundy got handles, I got the J
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So when I¡¯m spiting from the big oh line, nuts¡¯ in your face
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Dead homie on a ho-port, smoking a Newport
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Spiting at the bitches, and bumping that new Too Short
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Life is nothing I can even they to relate to, for real though
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Being dead is serious, it change you
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All I got left in this world, is my music to play
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So you correct if you thinkin', that I¡¯ma do my thang
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And all the thugs that wit me, throw your shit in the air
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And wave those motherfuckers side to side
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like you don¡¯t care
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And if you feeling like I¡¯m feeling, then it¡¯s plainy clear
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'Cause it¡¯s a whole bunch of dead folk chilling in here
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(Chorus x2)
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No questions for you too ask, no gats for you to blast
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No money, weed, no cash
|
It¡¯s time to get in that ass
|
Mr. Dead Folx, Colton Grundy Ya Dead Homie
|
Don¡¯t be acting like you don¡¯t see me
|
Believe me man you don¡¯t know me
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(Violent J)
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It¡¯s me and Blaze, drunk driving in an 87 Cutlass
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Taking turns at the wheel while the other claps motherfuckers
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You¡¯re chick, I¡¯m dicking that
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wicked shit, I¡¯m kicking that
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I¡¯m hitting with the quickness, life¡¯s stinking, where the chickens at?
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You made a wrong turn coming down my block
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I¡¯ll stop your car like I need help, and crack your head with a rock
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Uh, Colton Grundy the only homie I got,
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Mr. Dead Folx sparking at the burial spot
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We about to ride on the world, leave it deserted like Marz
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Get your wig spilt, by 40 juggalo rap stars
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A little kid asked me if I ever killed anybody (yes)
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I told 'em that I did and was warm and bloody
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I¡¯m Violent J, I¡¯ll be around until my dieng day
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On tour smoking bud, and eating Flying J
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Look me up under 'Juggla' and you¡¯ll find my name
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And if you don¡¯t, then you¡¯re dictionary¡¯s lame motherfucka!
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(Chorus x2)
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No questions for you too ask, no gats for you to blast
|
No money, weed, no cash
|
It¡¯s time to get in that ass
|
Mr. Dead Folx, Colton Grundy Ya Dead Homie
|
Don¡¯t be acting like you don¡¯t see me
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Believe me man you don¡¯t know me
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(Repeat Till End)
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Mr Dead Folx
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Believe me man you don¡¯t know me
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-----------------
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Mr. Dead Folx
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Blaze Ya Dead Homie |