[Doc Doom:]
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Oh how I love my a hundred spokes
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Flossin and shit, California
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Flossin on them gold ones
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Black Knights
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Old ones, I sold them
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Sippin on a cold one, Rollin on them gold ones
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The chrome was the old ones, I sold them
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Can I get a drum roll please for my gold D's?
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Hundred spoke Daytonas, wish we all could be California
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Smokin bank in the corners in a black six-deuce
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Hittin switches, dippin, switchin on that ackrite juice
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Act like you, wan' try and take my D's
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Watch how fast these slugs in this thang gon' leave
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Watch how many holes in ya body it leaves
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Watch how much pints of blood you bleed
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May the fake thugs retreat, pop up barkin the heat
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Caravanin nine-to-ten cars deep
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Down the 'shaw where Knights is known to breakin laws
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And if a bitch is ridin with me she's takin it off
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Now get off ya job, if not bitch I'm layin you off
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Cuz I guess the last nigga that you fucked with was soft
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That ain't me, it cost just to floss with me
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And how I love my a hundred spoke D's
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[Chorus x3.5: Doc Doom]
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Rollin, sippin on a cold one, Rollin on them gold ones
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The chrome was the old ones, I sold them
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[RZA:]
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Yo
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Up in a black bourbon tank labelled GMC
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Smokin on a Newport long and PCP
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Gat tucked in, easy pass, I'm low duckin
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Dimepiece bird on the side I'm finger-fuckin
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Bouncin off this deuce-deuces, fat like Polo gooses
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Eighteen-inch woofers movin studio acoustics
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Rim tri-star, chrome on my side-bar
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Don't hate crab cuz I caught ya bitch eye par
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Platinum grill, re-enforced solid steel
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Superstar engine, force of an eighteen wheel
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That'll crash through brick walls, smash intersections
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Move through ya city escorted with police protection
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Heated polished seats with back massages
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You gotta know how to roll in more like Kenny Rogers
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Tinted glass, PS2 plus Dreamcast
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Smoke screens, blindin high blasts
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GPS satellite navigation
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Automatic lock doors drop jackers to the station
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You got beef you get fed to Doc Doom
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Goon, you can't fuck with Wu Killa Bee Clan platoon
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I might get Holocaust to come and cough on you
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My nigga Crisis might love to let one off on you
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Or Rugged Monk rolls up another blunt
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The great Digi goes and lures out another cunt
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Cuz I be Rollin, Rollin, Rollin on them twenty-twos
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Ain't got no money or love for you funny fools
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Cuz I be Rollin, Rollin, Rollin on them twenty-twos
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Sippin brews, packin tools for you funny fools
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[Monk:]
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I'm from the land of chaos where niggaz get shot for trippin
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I caught a fool slippin on some D's, now I'm steady dippin
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Cruisin, movin up the block cuz I'm the shit
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Stick dick to hoodrats, make gangsta hits
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I baptize my sticks, ice skate on seventeens
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On the phone with five-oh, don't you love them D's?
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While they spin, you freeze in ya souped up paint clean
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Fifties, amps, six by nines and thangs
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Comin down the block, let my sub straight bang
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Like, "Fuck the po-po's, I'm not turnin it down"
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I love to floss as I toss up a fifth of that Crown
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Bank corner after corners, watch all the ho's smile
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[Chorus x3.5]
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-----------------
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Rollin'
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Wu-Tang Clan |