| Why these niggas so mad at Blocks for?
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| Shit, I don’t know
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| Is it 'cause a nigga get his bag from Costco’s?
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| You got those from Costco’s?
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| In a kitchen with a bird on a hot stove
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| I could cook a brick with my eyes closed
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| Chicken and serve like Roscoe’s
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| My Tahoe, ridin' round servin custos outside blow
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| Free Baby Pablo, screamin «fuck the Colombos» since Donnie Brasco
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| Tryna smoke me out the foxhole
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| They just mad I’m a don like Bosco
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| I put cheese on your head like a nacho
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| 'Cause a nigga get his bag from Costco’s?
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| We cruise down to El Paso, finna meet me at the Del Taco
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| Was just in the mountains on the Chavo
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| Out in Cabo with El Chapo
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| Me and Hector, no Camacho
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| At the racetrack with Benny Blanco
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| Told him «speedboat that shit back to me, ASAP, Pretty Flaco»
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| Sippin Rose, no Moscato. |
| Castro, that’s my Capo
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| I’m the boss hog, head honcho
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| But the plug call me «muchacho»
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| Muchacho, El Gato
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| Yeah, I get 'em for the deuce cuatro
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| If them bricks flaky, we’ll re-rock those
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| If them O’s shaky, we could swap those
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| If them bowls stanky, we could pop those
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| Got that old lady for ya nostrils
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| I’ve been known to hail it since a snot-nosed
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| Tryna bang the hinges off the spot doe
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| Wolves walkin' on egg shells
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| Now I’m tippy toein' on hot coals
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| Moon walkin' into cosmos
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| Let’s get it
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| You got those from Costco’s?
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| Straight to Trapper’s Alley, Alejandro
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| I’m going going, back back to Cali Cali, nigga pronto
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| For them marijuana from my vatos
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| Send that heroina from Morocco
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| Down to Tijuana, now we outro
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| To the Caribana in Toronto
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| Though you knew a couple niggas cop bowls
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| My Ricans (sp) grab it by the crop load
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| Duckin long ranger on the desert trail
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| Strap a mule down, they call her «Santo»
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| R.I.P. |
| Cecil Bri Santos, you could sell beans off Montrose
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| Bad bitch remind me of Salma Hayek, said she overheard the nigga convo
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| When we was checkin into the Heights, she was checkin out my ensemble
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| Said her father sentence got overturned
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| Where she come from, it’s a lot mo'
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| Where the coca and the pot grow
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| We got mo' keys than a locked door
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| Reppin Brick Life, shouts to Zo Sheeze (sp)
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| Bo Ski (sp) to Uncle Glasco (sp) |