Blowing exotics, low in the cottage
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Clothes is the finest, flows is melodic
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Cook product over stove pilots
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Robotic, smokers is opening up wallets
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Connects is solid, PR PS's is knotted
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Shred flesh like cheddar for omelettes
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Death is promised, heffers are dishonest
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Weapons are polished, my nemesis plotted
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Paradise for pimps, what I'm writing is dense
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Pop vicodins in like vitamins
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Move work, fly it in, get fly again
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Fire the M, you just bend like a tire rim
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These are the chronicles of dealers
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Your rhymes is not tolerable for hearing
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You can't get that blah blah about my earring
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That shit you poppin will get you shot by the year end
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Tryin to show you motherfuckers reared in
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They're synthetic I'm the real thing
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Ain't nothing authentic about em
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The sound niggas is out mimicking is ours
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We miss showers, work rigorous hours
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Earn six figures just spitting on albums
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Been in battled, niggas is gaffled
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Women harass who the live in the castle
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Individuals with little will grab instead of ask you
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And catch 20 in the cashew
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[Hook]
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I know feel me, cause I'm filthy
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We still take risks for it
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Pay 10 stacks on the hit for it, nigga
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I know you on mine's, cause I'm all fly
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I still mack hoes with it
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Gold wristwear with the stones in it, feel it nigga
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|
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The taste of cider, stakes get raised higher
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My spray will show grace under fire
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Display the iron, this is how pros do it
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When the occasion was shown I arose to it
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They want war, I'm not opposed to it
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I'll pop holes in your old Buick
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It's no music
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I'll actually really go and do it
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And spend 20 on a rose gold Cuban
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Heineken case, blow about an eighth to the face
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They trying to duplicate my shape like a bathing eight
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Shave weight on plates, blades scrape
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Hermes waste, I'm just tryin to earn the day's pay
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Poetic track records is athletic
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Dealing bars like calisthenics
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Al's the chemist,
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I just come and put down the lyrics
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That's just how we handle our business
|
|
[Hook]
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I know feel me, cause I'm filthy
|
We still take risks for it
|
Pay 10 stacks on the hit for it, nigga
|
I know you on mine's, cause I'm all fly
|
I still mack hoes with it
|
Gold wristwear with the stones in it, feel it nigga
|
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-----------------
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Paradise for Pimps
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Roc Marciano |