Verse one:
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36 ounces of thousand in grams
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I ain't never had shit, now I plot to piss or a stick
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Ain't nothing in my jeans but some lint and some dick
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Who wanna hunger young rick
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Thinking I can't get, out the situation
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I'm 'bout to make these bitches sick
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Since a little nigga, started to vision nigga
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Now when dophines' surely come, I know how much to give her
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Single bags to dimes, dimes, tens to twhomp twhomps
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Catch me in the set and I'ma have what'cha want want
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Playing it raw, I ain't out here for my health
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And tell the Temp service, ain't blood myself
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Enjoyed myself, blocks away from the melt
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And proving thy self from cream that don't melt
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Chorus:
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(Nigga why) Before real nigga's kiss up to the man (whomp)
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36 ounces of thousand in grams
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If it ain't legal and from Uncle Sam
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36 ounces of thousand in grams
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How I get them cars, houses, and land
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36 ounces of thousand in grams
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You ain't seeing shit till money in hand
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36 ounces of thousand in grams
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Verse two:
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My brother and cousin got a plan
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Look, that dope ain't got touch my hands
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But yet this bad and I'm the one with the life sands
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A ten millimeter for protection
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For any jacker or badge that run up in my section, and ah
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I cost to cigars from being broke
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And this ain't lemonheads or no bar of soap, and ah
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To old for McDonalds, that killed hope
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And all the hustla's around my way got cars with no notes, so ah
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Penetentries chance's here I come
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That nigga move to fast I'ma pop his ass one (pop)
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Drop his ass one (pop)
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Bringing home the brick
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What 'ya know when the Fiend got his own started up git
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Chorus
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The Rock Show
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Fiend |