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Dead Presidents II

I'm out for presidents to represent me

I'm out for dead fuckin' presidents to represent meWho wanna bet us that we don't touch lettuce

Stack cheddars forever

Live treacherous, all the et ceteras

To the death of us: me and my confidants, we shine

You feel the ambiance, y'all niggas just rhyme

By the ounce, dough accumulates like snow

We don't just shine, we illuminate the whole show, you feel me?

Factions from the other side would love to kill me

Spill 3 quarts of my blood into the street

Let alone the heat

Fuck em, they hate a nigga loving this life

In all possible ways, just know the Feds is buggin my life

Hospital dazed, reflecting when my man laid up

On the uptown high block he got his side sprayed up

I saw his life slipping, this is a minor setback

Yo, still in all we living, just dream about the get-back

That made him smile, though his eyes said "pray for me"

I'll do you one better and slay these niggas faithfully

Murder is a tough thing to digest, it's a slow process

And I ain't got nothing but time

I had near brushes, not to mention

Three shots close range, never touched me: divine intervention

Can't stop I, from drinking Mai-Tai's, with Ty-Ty

Down in Nevada, ha ha, Poppa, word life

I dabbled in crazy weight

Without rap, I was crazy straight

Partna, I'm still spending money from '88

I'll make you and your whack mans

Fold like bad hands

Roll like Monopoly: advance

You're copping me like white crystal

I gross the most at the end of the fiscal year than these niggas can wish to

The dead presidential candidate

With the sprinkles and the Presidential, ice that'll offend you

In due time when crime flees my mind

All sneak thieves and player haters can shine

But until then I keep the trilliant cut diamonds shining brilliant

I'll tell you half the story, the rest you fill it in

Long as the villain win

I spend Japan yen, attend major events

Catch me in the joints, convinced my iguanas is biting

J-A-Y hyphen, controlling, manipulating

I got a good life man, pounds and pence

Nuff dollars make sense, while you ride the bench

Catch me swinging for the fence

Dead Presidents, ya know?

So be it, the Soviet, the Unified steady flow

You already know: you light, I'm heavy, roll heavy dough

Mic-macheted your flow

Your paper falls slow like confetti

Mines a steady grow, perico

Pay 580 for blow, better believe

I have 1160 to show, my dough flip like Tae-Kwon

Jay-Z The Icon, baby, you like Dom, maybe this Cristals'll

Change your life, huh? Roll with the winners

Heavy spinners like hit records: Roc-A-Fella

Don't get it corrected, this shit is perfected

From chips to chicks to strippin' a Lexus

Naked without your gun, we taking everything you brung

We cakin', you niggas is fakin', we getting it done

Crime Family, well-connected Jay-Z

And you fake thugs is unplugged like MTV

I empty three, take your treasure, my pleasure

Dead presidentials, politics as usual

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