Pastor Troy:
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KD had called and gave me the word
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Said this nigga had ten birds, in Augusta for the week
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From the islands
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As soon as K told me this shit, I started smiling
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Cause all I could see was money piling
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Shit, on top of money
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Now, ??? with the money for the week, and Chesapeake
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The heat made my nigga take a break
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If I could catch all 10 of them bitches, and I don't look suspicious
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I'ma sell the fucking quart for the ?? the ha ha
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As I told K bye bye, he shot me advice
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If you gone do it nigga do it nigga, fuck thinking twice
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This is ya nigga for life
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Go fight 'em fire for fire
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Hit my hip when you finish said his calling card expired
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Hung up the phone, contemplating on who help me do it
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There's Kia and Jessica and then Rhonda truitt
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Now Jessica to stupid and Kia lie to much,
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I guess I'll take Rhonda, cause Rhonda don't give a fuck
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But first I got to pump her up
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I'm give her what, 10 g's
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Tell her if she really love me she would do this for me
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Eternally we'll be together for better or for worse
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But first we got to take these niggas to the hearse
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Burst in they shit, get the bricks come back out
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I'm be waiting in the chevy, you know I'm ready to take em' out
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If they front 'cha baby, come on, we make it we rich
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Come on, shit, Rhonda, my down ass bitch
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Chorus: <Help me Rhonda, help help me Rhonda (in background)
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I'm the realist bitch
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I'm mo' realer than reality
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Fuck that dumb shit, it take nothing to a casualty
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<Repeat 4X>
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Well I'm the realist bitch
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I'm mo realer than reality (well uh huh)
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Fuck that dumb shit (uh huh)
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It take nothing to a casualty (what)
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FBI be after me, quareter ki in my womanly (uh huh)
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Coming back from St. Croix
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First lady to Pastor Troy (well come on)
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Even I'm a Georgia Boy, cause boy I'm ready jack (well uh huh)
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All you got to say is where them pussy niggas hangin' at (well uh huh)
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Drop it like a maniac (uh huh)
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Set it off by myself (well uh huh)
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Fuck them pussy motherfuckers and who ever else
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Pastor Troy:
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Okay baby, you set it off, there will be no more living single
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I'll be ready to tie the knot after we lick them for them blocks
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Grab the glock, and shot out the lot, and keep on bustin'
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Then I'm gone bust in cusin' and leave his punk ass fa' nothing
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Now what's in store for you is 10 g's
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(That's enough for me, I don't give a fat fuck
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what's the fucking hold up?)
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About this time I saw a truck, to a familiar
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K had said them motherfuckers had a truck similiar
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Passengers are him and her, playing some reggae shit
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Two a.k.'s, me and my bitch, one false move we gone spit
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Guess the driver thank he slick, dred head motherfucker
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Guess he most be know my bitch, Rhonda watch them motherfuckers
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That owe 'em money, that what, with K.D. & Chesapeake
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Heard that when he spoke with me and now her folk wanna smoke me
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If he had the keys all I can do now is wonder
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But for now me and Rhonda filling 'em up with the thunder
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Chorus: (Repeat 4X)
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Rhonda
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Pastor Troy |