[Verse 1]
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Yo, yo, I know niggas wit honor and will
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That'll still crush the blow up and then pass they mama the bill
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So I'ma always be able to burn my strip
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Cuz my bags be stuffed and I burn my tips
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And it aint no tellin what the snub'll do
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So when y'all go and cop S's cop one for your mother too
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And I'm way better than them other dudes
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But I'm stuck wit, what I'm stuck wit
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Cuz I don't suck dick
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Sat with the plays and I stood with the cultures
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And I'ma always be in the hood like roaches
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Flow is ferocious, dough is ferocious
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Two guns by each lung with no holsters
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And I control all the fishscale in the city
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And still make your first week sales look pretty
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I come through, all you hear is chip in the muffler
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And you could ask anybody if the Kiss is a hustler
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CHORUS:
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Styles: He's a hustler
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Jadakiss: I hustle anywhere, any town, any borough, any strip, uh
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S: He's a gambler
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J: I always hold it down, gettin bankroll in 4, 5, 6 in trips
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S: He's a gangster
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J: I always make the paper and the FBI got me on they list, that's why
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S: He's a Ruff Ryder nigga, Ryde or Die nigga
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J: By the way, did I tell you that my name is Kiss?
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[Verse 2]
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And I don't understand how a broke nigga could chill
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When a two liter'll dust you so get you a mil
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Yes I got loose ends, poppin out the sunroof of the blue M
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I'm like Lou Sims
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And I'ma make sure they hit you wit both shotties
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I think this summer's gon be the most bodies
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You never ask a nigga in jail if he chillin
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Just make sure you make all the sales in the building
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Cuz now niggas think it's all right to tell
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And you could put out some garbage and it might could sell
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Alotta niggas be petty and sheist
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But that's only til you treat 'em like a video and edit they life
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This is a threat, when I talk you listen to death
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And if I run out of money then my wrist is a bet
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And the streets said they wanted more Kiss
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Up north niggas pop me in, and do a hundred more dips
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CHORUS
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[Verse 3]
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Yo, whether it's dope money or rap money, gamble the shit
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Trey pounds of Mauseburgs, handle the shit
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Got too big for the city, cops brought in the feds
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So we moved across the map and brought in the bread
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Niggas chill for a month and a half, no ruckus
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Got the pictures of baggers and all of the gun busters
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And you know how it go, cuz it rarely'll change
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Everybody got a license and a alias name
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We don't smoke when we hustle and none of us talk
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Back to back til we home, we can front in New York
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Cuz some of us is runnin from court
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Smokin weed, mumblin thoughts
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Tryin to stay humble for shorts
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We could do this the mob way and kiss you on both cheeks
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Or do it the hard way and shoot through your gold teeth
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Stand on any block, play cee-lo and craps
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And break niggas for they pack money, then give it back, uh
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CHORUS 2X
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-----------------
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My Name Is Kiss
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Ruff Ryders |