f/ INF-Black
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[Intro: INF-Black]
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Put your hands up, it's a stick up, you heard?
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Uh-huh, all my live niggaz, friday..
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Put your hands up, it's a stick up, you heard?
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[INF-Black]
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I'm the hood like weed and crack
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Best believe I'm the hood and I ain't far from my gat
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Was taught to hold it down, and never slack on my mack
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Same niggaz you give pounds, be those niggaz that rat
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The bullshit, you got a deal, momma told me react
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I'm from a part of town, that's real, where you can't relax
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Shots throwin', always somethin', get your head piece cracked
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The block jumpin', stay pumpin', these buildings is where it's at
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These buildings is where I stack, brought out the INF-Black
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Rather get caught in the act, then caught dead in your back, so chill
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(chill)
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If peace was an option, and still plottin'
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Nobody's untouchable, keep your p's when it's coppin'
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Please, when I'm cockin', or freeze and get boxed in
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So many m.c.'s on they knees, now they plead when they coppin'
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My live state rockin', fresh, and still grindin'
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Time after time and my homies, I'm still ridin'
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[Chorus 2X: INF-Black]
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Ya'll haters coudln't ride with me
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Couldn't get down like me, get high like me
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Competition's like a robbery, it's easy to see
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Yo, put your hands up, it's a stick up, you heard?
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[Hook: INF-Black]
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Go bang, when I'm jumpin' the gun
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Have ya'll bitch ass niggaz run
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It go bang, that's the sound of the thang
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That's the sound of the thang..
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[INF-Black]
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I ain't talkin' like I can't slip, or get clipped
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But I'm on point like my outfit matchin' my kicks
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I'm cockin' this fifth, faggot niggaz all on my dick
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With a heart full of fire, I ain't givin' an inch
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Take my kindness for weakness, ain't life a bitch
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Staten Isle's best secret'll run up in your shit
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Like I ain't never been pinched, took a blow over some dough
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I slap a hole in the 'fro for sniffin' my blow, it's real
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Park Hill's where I'm from, where killas load guns
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And take funds, huggin' the trigger
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Shot pumps in your Hilfiger, or the block for this cheddar
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Hold cracks in sweaters, next to floored counterfeiters
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Yeah, I loved a lot of niggaz, but lot of niggaz I stop lovin'
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It's me or them, so fuck 'em (fuck 'em) ...
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[Chorus 2X]
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[INF-Black]
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I'm livin' proof, nigga, listen
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More jewels than Q when he killed Bishop, play the roll or be the victim
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Time's tickin', my hand's itchin', I'm hot in the kitchen
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Any condition, I'm street, son, I'm plottin' the mission
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Choppin' the raw, I'll break it off, through my addition
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It's gonna be friction, I keep the half-sawed, it's real
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Push my limit, catch an ass whippin', son, I aint' missin'
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Two tool for the club and a nine for the waistline
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Get it all, it's fine, just like your bitch, can't wait to taste mine
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Break spines for yards and I break the bassline
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Hold it down with my squad, move hard as county lines, run that
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I'm your car, wouldn't call it a crime
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My rubber gripped chrome nine, keep ya'll hoes in line
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Treat you like old pussy, cuz I'll fuck you when I want
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Gut you out like a turkey and I'll stuff you a blunt, chump
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Have you in emergency, for tryin' hum a stunt
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[Chorus 2X]
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[Bridge: INF-Black]
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Nigga run that...
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Give up your chain and your watch, or the glock'll go click clack
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I ain't playin', what I'm sayin', throw these hollows in your six pack
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Don't have me pop, don't move, nigga, I ain't try'nna hear that
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Niggaz know I won't hesitate to put your fuckin' shit back
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[Interlude: INF-Black]
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Yeah, INF-Black, Hillside Scramblers, it
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[Hook]
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[Outro: INF-Black]
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Muthafuckas, toast to that, nigga
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Put your hands up, it's a stick up, you heard?
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-----------------
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Stick Up
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U-God |