In the 7−0-7 bro, you know the V-Town
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(Slip slidin', high sidin' around!)
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In the 7−0-7 bro, you know the V-Town
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(Slip slidin', high sidin' around!)
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In the 7−0-7 bro, you know the V-Town
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(Slip slidin', high sidin' around!)
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In the 7−0-7 bro, you know the V-Town
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(Slip slidin', high sidin' around!)
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In the 7−0-7
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Now it’s hot, blazin', I’m on fire
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It’s 100 degrees man I wanna retire
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But I can’t, 'cause fools depend on me
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I’m (JT, from the V)
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So I keep comin' dope as yayo
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How many records do you think I will sell?
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Man, I don’t know, I don’t care
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'Cause my partners got bank and I know that they share
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So even when I’m down, man you know I’m still up
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Get my car washed every time that I fill up
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Candy paint shinin', leather on hit
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They say ya don’t stop (So partner, don’t quit)
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Man I wanna get lit, and can’t nobody stop me
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was open so I think I’m gonna cop me
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A couple of old thangs to hang from my lip
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I’m sittin' shotgun, so partner don’t trip
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'Cause yo we just
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(Slip slidin', high sidin' around!)
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In the 7−0-7 bro, you know the V-Town
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(Slip slidin', high sidin' around!)
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In the 7−0-7 bro, you know the V-Town
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(Slip slidin', high sidin' around!)
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In the 7−0-7 bro, you know the V-Town
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(Slip slidin', high sidin' around!)
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In the 7−0-7
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Now let’s ride, outside, put your foot on the floor
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We’re in a little red '64
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Playin' nothin' but Motown oldies
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(Let me see) How many ways can I fold these?
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Hundred dollar bills, 50 dollar sacks
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32 ounces, 24 tracks
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Man back and we all up on ya
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(Where you from?) Vallejo California
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Comin' with the stuff you love to play
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TL is on his way
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He’s got his save the day
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And I got my Tanqueray
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We just
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(Slip slidin', high sidin' around!)
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In the 7−0-7 bro, you know the V-Town
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(Slip slidin', high sidin' around!)
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In the 7−0-7 bro, you know the V-Town
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(Slip slidin', high sidin' around!)
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In the 7−0-7 bro, you know the V-Town
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(Slip slidin', high sidin' around!)
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In the 7−0-7
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Slide, slide, slippity-slide
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Man I hope I have to never get a 9-to-5
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So I strive to get my grip
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Dip into my sack when I wanna take a trip (Right)
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to the side to regain my composure
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TL comin' through with a Ziploc of dossier
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on the spot where everybody knows ya
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See my homie and ask him «Hey, I don’t suppose ya?
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Got a pack of Zags, can I get a leaf?»
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It’s almost time to blaze so I better make it brief
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Good grief, there’s way too many lungs
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And pass the dutchie ain’t the song to be sung
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So I think we better mash, make a mad dash
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One foot on the brake, one foot on the gas
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Throw the yack if you pass the J my way
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I’m a show you why they call it a highway
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And keep
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(Slip slidin', high sidin' around!)
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In the 7−0-7 bro, you know the V-Town
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(Slip slidin', high sidin' around!)
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In the 7−0-7 bro, you know the V-Town
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(Slip slidin', high sidin' around!)
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In the 7−0-7 bro, you know the V-Town
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(Slip slidin', high sidin' around!)
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In the 7−0-7
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(Slip slidin', high sidin' around!)
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In the 7−0-7 bro, you know the V-Town
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(Slip slidin', high sidin' around!)
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In the 7−0-7 bro, you know the V-Town
|
(Slip slidin', high sidin' around!)
|
In the 7−0-7 bro, you know the V-Town
|
(Slip slidin', high sidin' around!)
|
In the 7−0-7
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In the 7−0-7 bro, you know the V-Town
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In the 7−0-7 bro, you know the V-Town
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In the 7−0-7 bro, you know the V-Town
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In the 7−0-7 bro, you know the V-Town |