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Jae Millz vs. Sire Castro
par
Diddy
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Uh-huh, yo Yes, uh, check it, yo Uh, check it, ayo Ayo yo yo Yo mad rappers wanna battle me, I blow they gon’ be mad at me My shotgun shells the size of D batteries I do my thing bubble grams, f**k that sh*t And I bang more hammers than Judge Mathis Sire Cash is the most shady, flow’s brazy Chase paper like Rich Po and Azie Run through you like the Pentagon Cash Hoffa, I been a don My name ring more bells than intercoms I’m the one with the dope and one with the scope Cross so big like I run with the pope Tatiana that’s my daughter I raised, smoke a quarter of haze Dog I push more water than waves When will ya’ ass learn? You had ya’ chance now it’s Cash turn 600 sitting on Jamal Mashburn’s They mad I won’t stop like taxi cabs And I get more pu**y, than maxi pads I was locked in the pens, they was actually glad Hoping I never come home, and get back in the lab Let me tell you what I’ma do I’ma hit him with, 41 shells like Amadou Palm the tool, rapid shots calm ya’ crew Cash, Hoffa fool, you harming who? n***a, you see the charm and jewels? You don’t want battle, skedaddle, you gonna lose Trust me, ya’ rhymes can’t touch me Yellow diamonds looking like a pineapple slushee All my jewels straight 3D, ducking the state PD Aim the heat turn ya’ brains to baked ziti I love automatics, but I keep revolvers For that smack fiends running back like Tiki Barber Motherf**ker
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