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It's a Wayne beat What up, Wayne? Ghetto boy sh*t, n***a, you know what the f**k going on Alright, mmm I was riding with a gun and a scale when I went to jail So f**ked up, was throwing quarters in a wishing well She ain't even take her panties off yet, and its a fishy smell Got into it with my b*t*h, and left the crib with thirty racks, told her wish me well Who got a brick for sale? I got three pints of Wockhardt right now, another zip for sale Short me? This is not a zip, bro, fix your scale D**k so good, I ain't have to fight the b*t*h, I made her hit herself Lying talking 'bout you got a hundred, do you hear yourself? N***as poor-minded, they don't want a M, they wanna hear they self Like, you get it? Like they don't want a M, they wanna be muted So, they don't wanna hear, alright You gotta know what I'm, listen, you gotta know how to work Pro Tools to know what I'm talking about? Alright, alright, alright, you gotta know this though Alright, alright, alright, I'm back You gotta know how to work a AK, you wanna kill somebody I could lose everything I got today, but I'm still somebody God blessed me with a gift, I wanna heal somebody Signed to DistroKid, I'll never sign a record deal probably Nope, I'll never sign a dotted line Got into it with my right hand 'cause it shot a 9 Oh we talking 'bout drank? I done drunk an eight a lotta times Heard doggie bone told again and I'm not surprised He should get a piggy bank, he dropped a lotta dimes I don't own these pants I got on, but the pockets mine B*t*h, my baby momma love my dirty drawers, you don't gotta like me Plus I got a dirty Glock in my draws, you don't gotta fight me If you see me out, just say what up, you ain't gotta write me Three M30 blues in me, I just popped a 90 Had to cut my cousin off, he was kinda shiesty Got a bougie b*t*h, lil ankle biter, she kinda feisty I just hit the Wock raw, it was kinda tasty Regret shooting dawg crib up, I could've shot a baby Hundred dollar, three-five of wafers, got a thousand eighthies F**ked ten hoes raw, and they all pregnant, I got a lot of maybes Had to tell Baby Ghost chill, he just shot a stranger Yesterday a n***a got killed right here, but we not in danger Blue hundreds thick like a notebook, I got a lotta paper AR loud as f**k, it need a carburetor Just left the town, on my way to the country, in a town & country I be tryna blend in with them folk, what you smoke, I be sounding country Took six zips out a n***a 'bow 'cause the pound was fluffy Please don't start talking pap' to me, I seen a lot of money Stop worrying 'bout what my chain cost, go buy a house or something Your pops a rat, now you tryna tell, you a mouse or something? Somebody call A1 for me, I need an ounce or something Walked in the jewelry store with eighty racks, but I walked out with nothing Yeah, Ghetto Boyz sh*t, n***a Accidental sh*t talking, you know what the f**k going on And we ain't even started yet, n***a The present begins
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