[Verse 1: Killer Mike]
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Hard cold G shit, homie, I don't play around
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Ain't shit sweet bout the peach - this Atlanta, clown
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Home of the dealers and the strippers and the clubs, though
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Lurking in the club, ol' tourist motherfuckers
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These monkey niggas looking for some Luda and Jermaine
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And all a nigga found was a Ruger and some pain
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Pow, motherfucker, pow! One off in the brain
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Money-hungry wolves, and we down to eat the rich
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Your bodyguard ain't shit, we strip her like a stripper bitch
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These real-ass killers move in silence with violence
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The minute it set off, be the motherfucking wildest
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How you from Atlanta that they never speak upon
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Everybody got a sack of dope and a gun
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[Hook: Trouble]
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And you know just how it go
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We ain't playing round with that bullshit
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Nigga, we ain't let that shit go
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This real G shit, you gotta show respect
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[Verse 2: Bun B]
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Once upon a time in the projects
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An O.G. saw a young Bun B as a prospect
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Thought that I would understand the streets from a very young age
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So he opened up the G code to the front page
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He sat me on the porch, said, "This where little dogs sit"
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Pointed at the yard, said, "That's where big dogs shit"
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He said, "Don't leave til your ass get growed
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Whatever you want is whatever you can have
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Bring the pain and leave em wet, like they soaking in some salve
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When you step out on the ave, make sure they wanna see ya
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Cause being trill is an onomatopoeia
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Be about it like a G, never let them catch you slipping
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Try to be a Jordan, but settle for a Pippen"
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Player, I ain't even tripping, but I don't really care
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Cause my pistol's in your face, so put your hands in the air
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[Hook:]
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And you know just how it go
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We ain't playing round with that bullshit
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Nigga, we ain't let that shit go
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This real G shit, you gotta show respect
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[Verse 3: T.I.]
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In a six, I'm riding with a pistol grip, banana clip
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From Simpson Road to Adamsville, I'm repping this Atlanta shit
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Nigga trying to handle up, let's see can they handle this
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A hundred round at em, that ain't no Louisiana shit
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Drinking on that Hennessey, blowing on that cannabis
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Amerikkka's nightmare, trap nigga fantasy
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Record full of felonies, searching for a better me
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But choppers go off in my hood like Iraq, Cuba, Tel Aviv
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Pretty nigga, let him be, fuck him, shorty
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Sucker nigga I'll never be, don't give a fuck about it
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Quick to round up on that Audi, make em get the fuck up out it
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Nigga better be about it, he deserve it he allow it
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What's a coward to a kamikaze?
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He ain't robbed a man, ain't predator or prey; the law of nature where I stay
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I catch you slipping with that K, ain't no illusion, no confusion
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[Hook:]
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And you know just how it go
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We ain't playing round with that bullshit
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Nigga, we ain't let that shit go
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This real G shit, you gotta show respect
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[Verse 4: Killer Mike]
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Wha-da-da-dang, wha-da-da-da-da-dang
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Listen to my clip before that five go bang
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Bang bang, guap time, rep game
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We the readers of the books and the leaders of the crooks
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Predators, we eyeballing all of y'all lames
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Let me fall off, I'm taking all of y'all chains
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All of y'all watches and all of y'all cars
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Well, who you talking to? All of y'all stars
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All of y'all rappers and producers and such
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No homo promo, homie, you might get your ass touched
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Like Def Jam circa '83, you get rushed
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If you rolling with some winners, then you rolling with us
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I know some dope country niggas, but them niggas ain't weak
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Know they dressing looking hard, but them niggas ain't cheap
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I don't make dance music, this is R.A.P
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Opposite of the sucker shit they play on T.V
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[Hook:]
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And you know just how it go
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We ain't playing round with that bullshit
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Nigga, we ain't let that shit go
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This real G shit, you gotta show respect
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-----------------
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Big Beast
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Killer Mike |