Who wanna catch dis
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Who wanna catch dis
|
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Bitch please, you must be smokin' rocks
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Real shit for my people
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And it just don't
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Fucker please you must be smokin' rocks
|
Real shit for my people
|
And it just don't
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Drop it like... oh yeah
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That's so trashy
|
How low can you go
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How dirty can you get... nasty fucker
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Drug through the dirt
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Razor cut that eight millimeter make it hurt
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Chain sleaze leather face
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Fucker please, you must be smokin' rocks
|
Kill it, kill it
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Kill it, kill it
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Hit it, fuck it, feel it, whip it, burn it,
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Turn it out and kick it to da curb
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Shut it down
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Forged in the flames, said it before and I'll say it again...
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Quazar game maximum vacuum rotation spin s-s-s
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Bitch please, you must be smokin' rocks
|
Real shit for my people
|
And it just don't
|
Fucker please you must be smokin' rocks
|
Real shit for my people
|
And it just don't
|
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When shit goes down
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I'll be there
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Wit' my hand on my gun, and my eyes on the road
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Ghost ridin' to hell fuck if I care... who wanna catch my droze
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Give a fuck blood, I ain't goin' nowhere
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Templar night and day, live an die by the code,
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Code of the street, how ta stay in the zone,
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How I own it and freak it to da base of da bone
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I am the darkness creeping through your system
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The lash of da whip cracking every bitch into position
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Worki'n ya over crashing and burning in a blackhole blasting out,
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Your subwoofers are melting... hear a bitch say why's he yelling
|
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Who wanna catch dis gun clap, shrapnel off me lip
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Cause blood bath
|
|
Bitch please, you must be smokin' rocks
|
Real shit for my people
|
And it just don't
|
Fucker please you must be smokin' rocks
|
Real shit for my people
|
And it just don't
|
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Cuz I run this lik
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Like dogtown ripped
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That raw shit like none other
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Low down dirty shit
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Shot off this hip
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Death grips, mothafucka
|
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Please, you must be
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Smokin' rocks
|
Real shit for my people
|
And it just don't stop
|
Bitch please
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-----------------
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Bitch Please
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Death Grips |