[Cappadonna:]
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Uh-huh, ye-yeah, it's like this
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If you got big dollars, Spit That G
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KnowwhatImean? If you got mad honies, Spit That G
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If you gettin dough or whatever
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Whips, phats cars, new kicks, Spit That G
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This is how we do it
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Word up, it's like this, check it out
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Check it out, yo
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[Chorus: Cappadonna (all)]
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If you got ladies (Spit That G)
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If you got endo (Spit That G)
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If you got currency (Spit That G)
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W.T.C. (Spit That G)
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Say Spit That G (Spit That G)
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Say Spit That G (Spit That G)
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More sex and money make the world go round
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Dumb Diddy snatch ya chick up, hit the floor now
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[Solomon Childs:]
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Want money? I need bodyguards, as big as stiff worker, R.C.
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Me mega-poverty, New York City, dollar signs prevail
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Five place love, exclusive, nine millimeters
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My voice box run through tracks like wild cheetahs
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Champagne and catfish at the club, Geda's
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Janet Jackson figures, I'm on now
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Gucci sweaters for all of my niggaz
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Calm braided, chrome rims
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Ghetto birds with pink Timb's
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A box of shells for the Cola for Kim's
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Sponsored by the Clan, see
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Pop more vanilla cherry than Luke Perry
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Now tell me this ain't the thug life
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[Hook x2: Suga Bang Bang]
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Talkin bout the good life
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Livin in da ghetto, wild
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[12 O'Clock:]
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What happened to the fist fights, the MC battles, nigga?
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Slingin newspapers on the Verrazano Narrow
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Gettin off the fifth train on Carol to get wet
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Summertime sweat got me rockin short sets
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From the loaf tops, no socks, Hawaiian suits
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Tied nicely with the wooden spoon for the scoop
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Young girls playin double Dutch and hoola-hoops
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Cap'n Crunch and Fruit Loops, camels and goose boots
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It was the FUBU, the stripped Lee's, the Hoopty's
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Five dollar bag of weed's a real bag of weed
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A ki was at twenty g's, hurled one at dope fiends
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O.D., niggaz throwin bricks at my click
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Now Giulianni got the state N.Y. locked like cuff
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Black Bad Boys gettin rich like Puff
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The Excursion truck need two spots on the parkin lot
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A stash box for the top, the lock
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[Prodical:]
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Brook-nam, grace and charm, remain calm with chron's of Lebanon
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Black man author, green Leprechaun from Lexington
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P. Sunn, I crack ya face with the gun
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Smack the taste outta ya dunn, ya fam's on the run
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Now y'all respect Sunn, shine all type direction
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Hype discretion with the right connection, recitin lessons
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But my wea-pon reign automatic projection
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Blow out ya reception, hose through ya reflection
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Old gold complexion, Sunn I'll swoll to perfection
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Did a fifteen, me and my team, supreme legends
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Twenty-one-two, I get that money with the Wu
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Up in the Cayman Islands, bitches sweeter than honey dew
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[Hook x4]
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[Interlude: Prodical (Timbo King)]
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Eh-yo, let's talk about it (Let's talk about it)
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Eh-yo, we be about it, be about it
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Yo, we be about it (Killa Beez)
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We all about it, yo we all about it
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We all about it, we be about it
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Killa Beez, yo we all about it
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[Timbo King:]
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Yo I slap money for the love of rap money
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Rock gully, high cop that bag of bomb
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This grown man talk, I could bag ya mom
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Watch and learn, block got lots of germ
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Straight like that, bake cake, ate like that
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Love to kill, I just hate like that
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Yo these guns yap bodies on it, ain't nobody want it
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Wide body six-hundred, brand new papers on it
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Front roast up, corner thugs roast up
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Mix the black with green, watch me mack the scene
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As a matter of fact, them caps gon' bang
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Brook-lawn pack those things, crack/cocaine
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[Chorus]
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[Hook x2]
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-----------------
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Spit That G
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Wu-Tang Clan |