| Yeah
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| We still broadcastin'
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| Live in Playamade Mexicans that be all up on your
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| T.V. and your magazines and your CD deck
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| But we still ain’t finished
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| I done been around the country
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| Hollin' «What it do»
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| When I saw the Hollywood sign, I chunked up the deuce
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| This ain’t no make-believe-stuff ones we rappin' 'bout
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| We the ones that be livin' it, that boy Lucky happy, now
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| It happened so fast (Fast)
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| I didn’t see it comin' (Comin')
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| Now I think about it, I ain’t worried 'bout no money
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| I did that (Ah)
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| Came up and ain’t fallin'
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| I been had hoes, but with fame, I’m a monster
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| Players get chose, you knew it all along
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| Quick up until she got to choose these shoes on
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| She lookin' for a thug
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| Asking for a player
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| Wanna let his nuts hang, never actin' like a square
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| Every night, I got a show, that’s a steady income
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| Plus these boys want me featured on their album
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| So I’m gettin' paid
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| Bet ya I’m a stack more
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| Money, women and respect, what else could I ask for
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| Who’s on the stands, goin' to Hollywood
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| He’s bustin' into Hollywood
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| Showin' the ways, move into Hollywood
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| He’s hoppin' into Hollywood
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| Repeat Chorus
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| It was night time
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| When I first crossed the border
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| Now I’m interviewed by the pool, with a fresh reporter
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| She wrote up a story, then we chilled for a while
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| Now why you wear a cowboy hat?
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| Where you get your style
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| She got the wrong idea once you saw my pimp cup
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| To stress dollar breezy, take it easy, hold up
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| Then you got girls that trip
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| Like I ain’t never of y’all
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| Then he turned to H-110
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| In a Murder Dog
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| My momma cried when she saw me on that Mun2
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| She said, «Mijo, beware
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| Of jealous putos»
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| They got my face airbrushed, but I ain’t dead or jail
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| I done made a mil, off tamale sales
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| My everyday life, like a P. Diddy video
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| T.V., radio, chilling with Arsenio
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| We made it big, little mama, we out the hood
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| Now pack ya fucking bags, we going to Hollywood
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| Repeat Chorus
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| The almighty H-Town
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| The Bay Area and back down
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| I put the smackdown, Cadillac mack down
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| With a navigation system, Elroy tank track down
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| They say, «Bash, how the hell you gon' act now»
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| I put the crack down, started slangin' pop cola
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| And every now and then, it’s nothin'
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| We rock soda
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| Bomb boda
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| Puss at a player price
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| And like my uncle Ike Turner
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| I’m nothin' nice
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| All on the beezy
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| My model
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| For the (???)
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| I keep it stable, thick, what
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| Countin' every penny
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| Hook:
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| Niggas better quit claimin' pimpin'
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| When they just fuckin' the biotch
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| Player, you ain’t never lie
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| Repeat Hook
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| Hotel, motel, bitches better go tell
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| They hubbies ain’t comin home, til they bringin' more mail
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| Repeat Chorus Four Times
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| Hollywood pimpin'
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| What’s goin' down, baby
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| We on our way
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| Know what I’m sayin'
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| It’s all over, now
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| We them Playamade Mexicans
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| We sittin' up, baby |