| Keep the money stack, run up a hundred-pack
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| Re-up and run it back, Benjamin, I’m in love with that
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| Comin' in last place just ain’t a option
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| Winning is toxic; |
| the blessings and the profits
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| OGs constantly reminded me to do the knowledge
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| I never did the college, got a degree in whatchacallit
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| I only make deposits, money, gotta pressure wash it
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| I run a check up off of any stress, make extra off it
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| Uh, I’m a hustler by nature, you can trust I’m 'bout paper
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| From dusk to dawn, I’m on capers
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| So I can shine off major
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| So don’t test, 'cause my razor got mindless behavior
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| Channelin' anger, I can rhyme through the danger
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| My advice: never trust that candy from a stranger
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| You fuck with me, you dancin' on blades
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| I put the G in the gauge, and the I in the pistol
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| The H in the Heckler, and the M in the missile
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| The T in the Taurus, you screamin' the chorus
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| My schemes is enormous, hotter than porridge
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| The triple sevens, all for it, mash the pedal and floor it
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| I’m never lettin' off
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| Feel acoustic reflections from the metal lettin' off
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| You’ll be takin' a loss with chunks flyin' off, I’ll be takin' the sauce
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| And still I maintain my lane in the game
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| strings, turn up the bass and gain, fix my vocal chain, uh |