Contraband

Fred The Godson

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    I got the whole crew with me, ounces for 2 50
    You could believe it or not, it's far from ripley's
    Please don't try to tempt me, the trigger I squeeze it empty
    Homie fatigues at ease, you ain't convincing be
    I smoke good weed and get them packs out
    Don't look at me different, I came up out the frat house
    High side weird look, and gazelle frames
    Niggas know me by friday october cold name
    Back in the days that fiends doing the fuckin soul train
    Ever since my little cousin put me on to the dope game
    I'm just saying that I know thangs
    I'm og in these streets, I listen to johnny coltrane
    Have that work for these hez, they call me raw game
    In front of the peas, blowing trees with a gold chain
    New york city greedy fifth's on stand
    Never know when you gotta use that contraband

    My whole crew good with the pan
    This is soul food, getting good amount of yams
    Before you leave here, count your grams
    Baking soda bubble that smuggle contraband
    Contraband, this is contraband
    I'm a monster with this money, this is contraband
    I throw some packs to my man
    Tell the law fuck taxes, this is contraband

    I started off a young crack dealer
    Now I'm all in the magazines
    And all I knew is that hustle hustle by any means
    Let me take em back from the start, back to my sonogram
    Got to look up in my mama belly and found contraband
    I caught em up town and then I checked em
    He wasn't living right, so my nigga left him
    All these niggas living that life, till a nigga test em
    Like all these bitches love me
    We kick it like david beckham
    Crack music, hit maker,
    Fred the god, october oz was the beat maker
    I beat the case what I feel for
    Mama say she ready to fuck, what she need a pill for
    It's not a game when I will kill y'all
    Hip hop is back to that era, era of real ball
    And tvm was the movement
    Let your pistol go or keep moving, it's real nigga

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    My whole crew good with the pan
    This is soul food, getting good amount of yams
    Before you leave here, count your grams
    Baking soda bubble that smuggle contraband
    Contraband, this is contraband
    I'm a monster with this money, this is contraband
    I throw some packs to my man
    Tell the law fuck taxes, this is contraband

    Whoever know, my revenue pay from ex to dust
    Something like a revenue
    My leather new, I get 7 a scale
    Learn to work with a bird like kevin mccall
    I talk to these birds like doctor doolittle
    I'll pop you with a bird that doctor do little
    Your block could do little, I ain't doing the counting
    But you re up with me, it's just a pale of balance
    And you see me every other week
    You niggas is fucking weak
    Get bread, not whole weed will pump a nigga
    These little niggas take a whole week to pump a nigga
    I'm talking quarters, halfs bein broken and chokin
    I love my daughter's laugh
    When I do business with cash and earn that cake
    Like the nba draft, it's just a sturdy handshake

    My whole crew good with the pan
    This is soul food, getting good amount of yams
    Before you leave here, count your grams
    Baking soda bubble that smuggle contraband
    Contraband, this is contraband
    I'm a monster with this money, this is contraband
    I throw some packs to my man
    Tell the law fuck taxes, this is contraband

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