[Sauce Money]
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I lay my gun fine, ideas be as bright as the sunshine
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Shook the rap game with just one line
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When me and my niggaz combine, all day, you know what?
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Sometimes, I run with mad niggaz who done time
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Hit you with eight, from one nine, now you showin the vein
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My shells is like information, go in your brain
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Holdin my slug, before you squeeze em show em the love
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Burn your fingertips so throw em a glove, understand me
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Before my album drop, cop the Grammy, uncanny
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Bought my first Role' from Manny
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Dirty burners my crew never hand me, nigga we family
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You not, get shot, get caught slippin like Dexter Manley
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with at least ten lead, spray right, paint your skin red
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Damn we, all the shit you can't be
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We big time, you small time, real small like how an ant be
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Marcy, bust a shot for Metcalf, Tilo and Danny
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Peace to the Bureils, Cut Wop and Stanley
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Boom Moet and bow, my whole set is wild
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Past threats, frontin flash singles and that's bent
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Fuck a bitch, you know the drill
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Cut a chick or a suck a dick
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[Jay-Z]
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Jigga, what the fuck?
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As a youth explosively, clappin off the roof
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Shootin guard like Kobe, raised up slay smears and bo'e
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Back then, Gil was my codiene, Spanish Jose
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showed me how to get the money niggaz owed me
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Fast forward, no kids, six cars and three Role's
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Two cribs, trips to Cuba, sippin on Uba
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Got rap in a stupor, first to clap your group up
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from the Range with the ski rack, or six with the Ruger
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Shit, I light the motherfuckin soundproof booth up
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New shit, y'all say the same shit like you're looped up
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Your rap's all lazy, Jigga the Black Scorcese
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What your album lack is more Jay-Z
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Code name: Jay-hovah, all praise me
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Y'all don't paint pictures, y'all all trace me
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You've yet to see the day when my squad be done
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I represent that shit nigga, Marcy son, what?
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Pre-Game
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Sauce Money |