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Bedrock
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Young Slo-Be
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(AR Beats) (Chris Bone) This thirty clip hangin' like a dreadlock (Ah-ah-ah) Since this n***a think he DaBaby, get your bed rocked (Ah-ah-ah, ayy) Who you knockin' out? Take a headshot (Ayy) Who that n***a clutchin' the pole? N***a, that's Young Joc (It's the gang) Ayy, in the Southeast, I need fee-fees B*t*h, these hundreds hella raggedy, I'm a neat freak Cuddy got that G34, he the Greek Freak Ooh-wee, damn, go hard in the paint Suckas always talkin' 'bout they slidin', but they really can't Posted in front of the store with a chop, cuddy rolled a stank These f**k n***as ain't up on my mind, I took her out of state Call my hood mini Toronto the way we play with Dracs, n***a This thirty clip hangin' like a dreadlock Since this n***a think he DaBaby, get your bed rocked (Ayy) Who you knockin' out? Take a headshot (Ayy) Who that n***a clutchin' the pole? N***a, that's Young Joc (It's the gang) Bustin' The Scat' yellow and it's a leopard Free my brother Hari, he was f**kin' up them extras Girls back to back, we got no OG to come check us They locked my aunts down, so I be movin' to the necklace Paul Wall on me, baby, I ain't come for all that sexin' For any situation that get sticky, I got weapon Blow y'all noodles out and go and pray in front the reverend B*t*h told me go to hell, well, all dogs go to heaven I just want the neck, well, biddy, tell me why you naked We gon' spin again and again when we steppin' It might just get tricky, we got blicky on the Seven Slide down this b*t*h, we droppin' fifties out these cannons Ghost guns pretty, but they iffy, they be jammin' Slap-a** n***as cut wrong, they be hammin' Catch me flippin' 'bows, sendin' hoes, ain't no scammin' Catch me flippin' 'bows, sendin' hoes, ain't no scammin' Ayy, big pole, when I knock it, gotta hold it steady Ain't no question if Bris rockin', b*t*h, you know I'm ready Big rocket, when I pop it, it's gon' blow spaghetti Ain't my fault I do her cold, b*t*h, you know she let me I can tell them b*t*hes choosin', I can see 'em lookin' I ain't trippin', throw up the deuces, tell 'em keep it pushin' I keep an oven in the stove and I ain't even cookin' Somethin' iffy about blood, he always leave from bookin' Hear that pop-pop, uh, then let them shots follow I sit back and then I laugh and watch this thot swallow Pile on drills and wear masks, you can ask Ralo Young Joc bang Belair, but not the black bottle And yeah, this chopper kickin', ayy, he wanna fight with who? You don't know I'll run you down up in these Nike shoes Countin' money and shootin' guns is what I like to do All these n***as is unhealthy, they don't like the Fruits Came home to a bag and I ain't go shoppin' 'Cause I heard them n***as mad and got me pole poppin' Long sticks from the Asians, Ling Ling Longstocking Tricky Dance Moves keep metal like he robotin' Already know they might blow pole, watch how you look at me Just left the pen' and DA tried to throw that book at me Ayy, baby, lift your chin up, keep look happy Money sweet up in this trap, my OG cook candy (Cook dope)
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