[Produced by Willy Will]
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[Verse 1: Bun B]
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Yeah, when I step in the spot, motherfuckers say “Who that?”
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Big Bun Beeda but you already knew that
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Live from the state where they chop it and screw that
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You hatin on the trill OG, where they do that? (For real!)
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Motherfuckers need to get off the dick, man
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Fall the fuck back like a bike with no kickstand
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Get out my mix, man, just gon get you stuck
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Deeper in the quicksand with no easy fix, man (damn)
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No tricks, man, those is for kids
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Kush in my cigar and hoes in the crib
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Drank and the 20 ounce froze in the fridge
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You fuckin with P.A. so you know what it is
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Im sittin on the fours that clack
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Comin down candy in the golden ‘Lac
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We gettin to the money like its Goldman Sachs
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Said we do it for the Pimp so no holding back, lets go!
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[Bridge: Nas]
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Look who crept in, crept-crept in
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Look-look who crept in, look-look who
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[Verse 2: Nas]
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L-l-l-look who crept in with automatic weapons
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Reppin QB til the death of him
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That nigga that inspired lyrical tyrants like Kanye West and Em
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Track record, goes back to the Essence, smack adolescents
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Who ask who the best is, Im nasty like gas from a fat mans intestines
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I pass it, you gaspin for breath and you die fast, gut em like a gastric bypass
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But ya Nas advocates actors seem to get typecast
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In the same role, Since 16 I aint grow a day old
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Yet my brain grow, cocaine white Range Rov
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Tats on my body like an art exhibit
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I did real good for a project nigga
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Was once a Bacardi sipper
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Now its Chandon, fat blunts in the car with strippers
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Guns in compartments hidden
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I was real young, little youth, a novice nigga
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Blessings, bowed down, respected
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Chowed down, now my foods digested
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Pow-pow, with my shooters are Techs
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Thatll bust louder than the noise that I just spit
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Lets get one thing straight
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That my crown aint for testing, testing
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Chop heads off like King Henry the Eighth
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Guillotine to your neck, bitch
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Im a king in this thing, dont be dumb
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Been in this shit since 91
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Niggas cant fuck with the style I use
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Your fate is sealed, no Heidi Klum
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Calm now, was a wildin dude
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Studied Taoism and made power moves
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Watched Wild Planet, seen lions devour food
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You can say thats how I move
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A monster nigga, and I dont really like doing songs with niggas
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But yo, my nigga Wayne
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Let them niggas hate, cause like my nigga Drake say
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“We aint got time to respond to niggas”
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[Verse 3: Shyne]
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Im a villain, Im a villain, all that happens in the street
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Poverty and desperation made me everything I be
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Im a shotta when I pop up with them poppers, burn ya block up
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Call the judges, call the coppers, we takin over Gotham
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Word to Poppa, Blood, Bl-Blood Gang, five
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Its that Blood Gang five but green is the bottom line
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I run this town, I aint gon lie, they run they mouth, they aint gon fire
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They actin like they aint gon die, until I let them ‘llamas fly
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Flatbush to Bed Do-or-Die, from Watts to Larry Hoover, Chi
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Poverty and heroine, its no place for a juvenile
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Put greed in our heart, its the green that we want
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Cash Money is the company, and Weezy the boss!
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[Verse 4: Busta Rhymes]
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They say Im underrated (aha), but un-compete-with-able
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Hm… Understandable, being that my rating levels are unreachable
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Anything said other than that should be silenced, unspeakable! (Shh!)
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And the thought of you being nicer than me, unfeasible!
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They ask, is what I do ever gonna stop, this shit will never end
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Thats when you hear a car crash in the vocal booth, got em sayin “There he goes again!”
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See now, they nominated
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A nigga to come and flatten everything, now let me dominate it, nigga, run
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And they be knowin that I be blackin on everything and make it complicated
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Like a nigga constipated with a gun
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I gotta make it what they want and wake em when I come
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And shake em and bake em and take em to another place
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Aint no fakin, aint no kind of mistaking how I be breakin up everything
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And be creating a s-s-s-situation when Im done (Damn!)
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You see I spit National Treasure, discography rich
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And I done killed more cats than curiosity, snitch!
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Most of you niggas sorry and owe apologies quick
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What the fuck you niggas still hangin around here for, you apostrophe bitch?
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Okay, now enough of that, see now Im out the door
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Tunechi, thanks for giving us a whole ‘nother classic with “Tha Carter IV”