[talking]
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Ah-ah, Cut Throat to the motherfucking
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Bone gristle, you understand me
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Fuck another nigga, fuck em
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[Hook]
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Motherfuck you, and your niggas
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Cause me and my niggas, we terrorize niggas
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Motherfuck you, and your niggas
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Cause me and my niggas, we ride or die niggas
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[Soulja Slim]
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I spray gats like raid, when the roaches come out
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You wanna fuck with the team, then the coaches come out
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Holes in your mouth, bullets leaving holes in your house
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Ice block so cold, niggas catching a gout
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Set I trends, fucking two cat eyed friends
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Getting brain in the back, of the cat-eyed Benz
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Black eyed lens, looking like M-I-B
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When I be, stomping through your VIP
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H.N.I.C., represent that MP3
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Fuck you, you ain't getting nothing from me
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But hot lead to your dome, black thick and chrome
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That's all I tote, sticky-ayo that's all I smoke
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Now there I go rambling, but I could back it up fast
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Catch you in the club, I scuffle your bitch ass
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Brigadors be down to die for me, soldiers be down to ride for me
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Bistanders do get hit, no apologies
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[Hook x2]
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[Curren$y]
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Now when the 4-4's, come out
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You'd think your whole click was Ludacris, the way they rolling out
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It's Curren$y the Hot Spitter, I control the South
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Look at who I be around, then you'll know what I'm bout
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Brah you don't want me, to come through
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Cause one pop out the glock, I'll leave your fat head with a sun roof
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Please understand me, brah when my album drop
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Me and C-Murder, bringing guns to the Grammy's
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Hoes loving on me, so these niggas can't stand me
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But they know I got the heat, like Miami
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Hot Spitter got loot, growing like mildew
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That with the cameras, instead of the rearview
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Hit you point blank range, I ain't even near you
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My niggas ain't from Pittsburgh, but we'll steal you
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Riding on chrome, all 21 and up
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Yours under 18, can't even get in the club so
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[Hook x2]
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[Tre-Nitty]
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Murder instincts we speaking, tweaking
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And leave a nigga, leaking on the concrete
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You run up with cowards, all I got is one nigga behind me
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At a time to cover my back, and other than that
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Ain't too many niggas, gon cover my tracks
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So I feed him, with a long handle
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Man I'm in the desert, and surviving is a strong gandle
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So I can't be walking, in the wrong sandles
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Feeling like all I got, is me myself and I
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Don't know too many, that I can leave my wealth and die
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Empty, cause I know that drama will only increase
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And who's gonna carry me, when I'm trapped under them bed sheets
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Sealing the sheets with hot blood, niggas steady saying they got love
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And I'm the one laying with hot slugs, shit I've been there
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And any nigga that I fuck with, is just like me
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So when we beefing, that's the nigga you just might see
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But everybody claiming know 12, saying we blow wells
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And how I hung with him, but can't say what I done with him
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[Hook x4]
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-----------------
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Motha Fuck You
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Soulja Slim |