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I got this mother fucker locked from Los Angeles, to New York City
lit the grams and made that 7-27 on that 60
don't you come up in my zone and don't you come up in my home
I'm flippin this switch and I'm slipping this clip in and ripping your mother fucking dome got-damn man,
haters always set it off
and I'm a be the first dispersing more than words to get this off
my chest you second guess me, and you best believe I'm swinging
with that SLOPPY WHITE BOY MUSIC kind of head ringing
baybayyy I'm fuckin you up with this chronic and singing that
heyyy heyyy we keepin it movin up on you and bringing that
lately I'm adding these names to my hit list
cause people don't dance no more all they do is diss
but dissin' me is like just downright dogging the whole industry
them cats in Tenessee they know you, and you aint' no friend to me
pretend to be, these enemies they need to fucking lay low
to the curb...them words'll leave you dead in San Diego
I came close to catching them spokes but it was case-closed
erase those...collect the intent, and seen his face froze
and you know that I know just what you knew when he was swimming
with that shark, and them piranahs him, and his momma sayonara saying...

Tonight I'm riding, and I aint driving
and where we're going I don't know
and I don't care, and I'm not watching
the road or the signs or the radio the clock
and the windows up, and the chronic is lit
and the track I got you movin' to, man this shit is sicker than a mother fucker
pass it back, and let me let my eyes close
I'm going...going...gone

So now I'm back up on the block dodging haters, pop-hookers and cops
I watch them spots for the knots cause they keep em' in stock
I'm leavin the ground without a sound no movement tacked to the wall
and if the dramas long distance fuck making a call
I'm hitting cross country flights just to get in a fist fight
with internet pussies now they begging to get right
cause I aint' playing games
and I aint' naming names
aint' letting no lames
gain a grain of my hard earned fame
now mutha fucka I don't really really think you know, I'll do my best to show you
don't be thinking cause I play this here piano, that I won't throw you
across the room, and straight the fuck up out that window, that's where you'll go soon
and buried in the cemetary with your kin-folks, and everybody who knows you
man it's gotta be a bitch in that ditch in that rut that you're stuck in
your mind can barely function, once you're brought up in discussion
that concussion lasts a week, and maybe then so will the stitches
I'm off into the city with yo bitch, and hitting switches saying...

Tonight I'm riding, and I aint driving
and where we're going I don't know
and I don't care, and I'm not watching
the road or the signs or the radio the clock
and the windows up, and the chronic is lit
and the track I got you movin' to, man this shit is sicker than a mother fucker
pass it back, and let me let my eyes close
I'm going...going...gone

Tonight I'm riding, and I aint driving
and where we're going I don't know
and I don't care, and I'm not watching
the road or the signs or the radio the clock
and the windows up, and the chronic is lit
and the track I got you movin' to, man this shit is sicker than a mother fucker
pass it back, and let me let my eyes close
I'm going...going...gone

going...going...gone...gone

Tonight I'm riding, and I aint driving
and where we're going I don't know
and I don't care, and I'm not watching
the road or the signs or the radio the clock
and the windows up, and the chronic is lit
and the track I got you movin' to, man this shit is sicker than a mother fucker
pass it back, and let me let my eyes close
I'm going...going...gone

Hold up, hey
for my crackers that be thinkin I'm soft
I don't, play
fuck your mom until that ass falls off
Hold up, hey
for my crackers who be acting too bold
Take a, seat
fuck your momma in the next episode
Hey...I fuck your mom everday.
I got this mother fucker locked from Los Angeles, to New York City   lit the grams and made that 7-27 on that 60   don't you come up in my zone and don't you come up in my home   I'm flippin this switch and I'm slipping this clip in and ripping your mother fucking dome got-damn man,    haters always set it off    and I'm a be the first dispersing more than words to get this off   my chest you second guess me, and you best believe I'm swinging   with that SLOPPY WHITE BOY MUSIC kind of head ringing    baybayyy I'm fuckin you up with this chronic and singing that   heyyy heyyy we keepin it movin up on you and bringing that   lately I'm adding these names to my hit list    cause people don't dance no more all they do is diss   but dissin' me is like just downright dogging the whole industry   them cats in Tenessee they know you, and you aint' no friend to me   pretend to be, these enemies they need to fucking lay low   to the curb...them words'll leave you dead in San Diego   I came close to catching them spokes but it was case-closed   erase those...collect the intent, and seen his face froze    and you know that I know just what you knew when he was swimming   with that shark, and them piranahs him, and his momma sayonara saying...      Tonight I'm riding, and I aint driving   and where we're going I don't know   and I don't care, and I'm not watching   the road or the signs or the radio the clock    and the windows up, and the chronic is lit   and the track I got you movin' to, man this shit is sicker than a mother fucker   pass it back, and let me let my eyes close   I'm going...going...gone       So now I'm back up on the block dodging haters, pop-hookers and cops    I watch them spots for the knots cause they keep em' in stock   I'm leavin the ground without a sound no movement tacked to the wall   and if the dramas long distance fuck making a call   I'm hitting cross country flights just to get in a fist fight   with internet pussies now they begging to get right   cause I aint' playing games   and I aint' naming names   aint' letting no lames   gain a grain of my hard earned fame   now mutha fucka I don't really really think you know, I'll do my best to show you   don't be thinking cause I play this here piano, that I won't throw you   across the room, and straight the fuck up out that window, that's where you'll go soon   and buried in the cemetary with your kin-folks, and everybody who knows you   man it's gotta be a bitch in that ditch in that rut that you're stuck in   your mind can barely function, once you're brought up in discussion   that concussion lasts a week, and maybe then so will the stitches   I'm off into the city with yo bitch, and hitting switches saying...      Tonight I'm riding, and I aint driving   and where we're going I don't know   and I don't care, and I'm not watching   the road or the signs or the radio the clock    and the windows up, and the chronic is lit   and the track I got you movin' to, man this shit is sicker than a mother fucker    pass it back, and let me let my eyes close   I'm going...going...gone       Tonight I'm riding, and I aint driving   and where we're going I don't know   and I don't care, and I'm not watching   the road or the signs or the radio the clock    and the windows up, and the chronic is lit   and the track I got you movin' to, man this shit is sicker than a mother fucker   pass it back, and let me let my eyes close   I'm going...going...gone      going...going...gone...gone      Tonight I'm riding, and I aint driving   and where we're going I don't know   and I don't care, and I'm not watching   the road or the signs or the radio the clock    and the windows up, and the chronic is lit   and the track I got you movin' to, man this shit is sicker than a mother fucker    pass it back, and let me let my eyes close   I'm going...going...gone      Hold up, hey   for my crackers that be thinkin I'm soft   I don't, play   fuck your mom until that ass falls off   Hold up, hey   for my crackers who be acting too bold   Take a, seat   fuck your momma in the next episode   Hey...I fuck your mom everday.
 
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