| I was born an O.G. |
| if you ain’t heard about me
|
| I put four or five bullets in your head, Ace Hood!
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| (Yeah, Luda!)
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| As if the guillotine chopped off my noggin
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| I got my head gone
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| Got my pedal to the metal
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| And my Lambo poppin' in the red zone
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| Speedin' like demons is reason
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| Heathens is breathin' hard
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| But I roll with some heathens
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| That just, just don’t seem to believe in God
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| They’ll whoop your head boy
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| Put your body in the bottom of the ocean
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| Mean while Ludacris is in the MIA
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| With Ace Hood somewhere smokin'
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| Got a pound of the purp and the smell on my shirt
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| So I’m lookin' like roll it up
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| I be swimmin' in a pool of blood
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| Cause the A.K. |
| super soak it up
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| Hahaha, nah fuck that
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| I’mma come back with it right quick like this
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| Come back with it, ha ha ha ha
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| Nasty and Ludacris on the track with it
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| Got enough ammo to blow you out of proportion
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| And put a motherfucker on his back with it
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| I’m so wrong, I’m so Gutta
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| I’m so dangerous, ain’t I?
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| I’m so gone off these suckers
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| But the flamers will bang you cause I’m a solid aimer
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| The fat lady got a song to sang ya
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| Meanwhile I stashed all your bricks
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| In my million airplane hanger
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| I’m so high, I’m so fly, that is a fuckin shame
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| Smokin' weed by the bush with that kush
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| And you’s a fuckin' lame
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| + (Ludacris)
|
| I wake up and got four or five bitches in the bed (in the bed)
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| Smokin' weed, drinkin' liquor by the keg (by the keg)
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| I was born an O.G. |
| if you ain’t heard about me
|
| I put four or five bullets in your head (in your head)
|
| I wake up and got four or five bitches in the bed (in the bed)
|
| Smokin' weed, drinkin' liquor by the keg (by the keg)
|
| I was born an O.G. |
| if you ain’t heard about me
|
| I put four or five bullets in your head (in your head)
|
| In your head nigga, Young Gutta, Ace Hood homie
|
| Yo! |
| Luda I got 'em, «Ruthless» homie
|
| And I’m a ball like a dog and I’m never gon' fall
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| You can call me Jordan baby
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| In a Lamborghini drop top
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| And I can’t stop myself from stuntin' lately
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| And I’m stickin' to the dollars and my motto
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| You can follow, tell them holler, it’s «Fuck you, pay me»
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| I’ll meet those hollows in the back of the Tahoe
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| They comin' at a spiral, borrow that
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| And any nigga want to get it, I ain’t trippin'
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| I’ll send about 50 with a body bag
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| Zip it up, ship, ship his ass at the bottom of the ocean fast
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| Then I sit back, laugh, with a pound of that hash
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| Me and Ludacris pass that
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| You will need a gas mask, think you can still bag that
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| Mmm, haha, Ace Hood, Ace Hood, G’s hood homie
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| And guess who, guess who I’m back with it
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| Ace Hood motherfucker don’t act with it
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| Ruthless than a motherfucker, tell them other brothers
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| Don’t try cause they know that I’m packin' it
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| Give me your car, then your keys, then your jean
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| Then your green, if you sneeze then you comin' up absent
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| And I roll with a pack of them goons
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| And they only think tools with bodies packed in it
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| More money I’mma keep on stackin' it
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| Hundred thousand for the chain, immaculate
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| New whips I’mma keep plate taggin' it
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| New swag and a Louis duff bag with it
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| Ace Hood, that’s who, you mad with it
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| To all you haters and you fake antagonists
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| I got a hit, what’s your name? |
| You can have it!
|
| + (Ludacris)
|
| I wake up and got four or five bitches in the bed (in the bed)
|
| Smokin' weed, drinkin' liquor by the keg (by the keg)
|
| I was born an O.G. |
| if you ain’t heard about me
|
| I put four or five bullets in your head (in your head)
|
| I wake up and got four or five bitches in the bed (in the bed)
|
| Smokin' weed, drinkin' liquor by the keg (by the keg)
|
| I was born an O.G. |
| if you ain’t heard about me
|
| I put four or five bullets in your head (in your head) |