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    I see you reppin' ie now, well, get yo' ass up
    I put this on my mom, my niggas and my last cup
    I need my cash, yup, it was all bad, yup
    Now we bout to blow, just let 'em know the west is back, yup

    Aight now, cut it up to that eight
    Let me hear that boom beep bow bam
    I'm ridin' round with' no tint, they tryna see who I am
    At first when they was all on me
    I was like "who? Me? Hot damn"
    They say "yeah you, boy, come as you are
    Ooh wee, that's my jam", yup

    It's startin' to get poppin', it's cameras out when I'm shoppin'
    Cops on us cause we smokin'
    Fuck that, you got a lighter in yo' pocket, nigga
    I need that, smoke it up, light it, ie hat, go out and cop it
    Skatin' outside, come out and watch it
    Posin' ass niggas can't even ollie

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    Now where yo' favorite rapper? Man, go find two of him
    If you say that we'll lose again, we will find you and win
    Rap game ryu and ken
    Said these niggas is the bomb, I'll nuke 'em
    Uppercut 'em, price, I hit the hadouken
    We hot, I am ie, man, don't speak if you not

    Westside, who you with'? Lose ya shit
    Eastside, who you with'? Lose ya shit
    Northside, who you with'? Lose ya shit
    Southside, who you with'? Lose ya shit
    Westside, who you with'? Lose ya shit
    Eastside, who you with'? Lose ya shit
    Northside, who you with'? Lose ya shit
    Southside, who you with'?

    Look, I was nine years old, ridin' as my momma oldest son
    Rappin' every lyric to that dre chronic 2001
    The bible say that life and death is in the power of the tongue
    So why the rasta pull out gun? It look like I'm supposed to rap
    I forget too much, I smoke a ton, hear these raps, I'm close to none
    All I fear is joseph son, that's christ, I'm price, let me show you sum'
    Writin' raps in a ford focus, that's where I got my focus from

    Now bitches see I'm bout my bread
    They throw these kicks and show them buns
    Here they come, aw, here we go again, they tryna lurk
    Fuck, police at the door again, hide the work
    Never gotta be signed to merch
    I'm flyin' first class just to rhyme a verse
    I was hustlin', givin' my uncle joe ya cash

    So I could get double back by the first, goddamn
    Work the benches, everything wavy
    You think you slowin' down my hustle? You crazy
    I'm a full g, bitch, you just fugazi
    No more handshakes unless you finna pay me, real shit
    Lose ya shit

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