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The Grunge

Car 36, 36, we got a situation in progress

37 between 106th

We got a possible homicide

All cars, all cars, we got a situation downAiyo, toxi' off the gray goose, vodka, shots of hypnotic

Y'all bitches want beef, son, you got it

Fresh off the bliz-knock, Bob Diznoc

Plex on the K.B. son, you get shiz not

Right in your hizead, you'll be dized

Don't front on this nigga, I'ma from New York Ci-zeyY'all butter pec', make my nuts weak

Have me walk around, talkin' backward with stutter speak

Like tuh tuh tuh tuh tuh, buh buh buh buh

Butter pec', make my nutter weakAnd y'all crabs down south, you ain't got a clue

How it feel to slip in that papi chino power you

White Cadillac truck just high beamed us

Mami look like she was Angie MartinezI know Espanol, I play impostor

I was like, "Mamacita, yah yah, que pasa?"

And slip back to my casa

She was like, "Nigga! You sound like rasta"

I'm the ace in the decks[Foreign Content]I'm the ace in the deck, still casin' a Tec

That filled with the taste of the lead, buck, buck

The bass and the treb', the space in the back

Where chumps walk by and they face get slappedI'm not known to talk a lot

Sit on five whips, son, so I don't walk a lot

Got ten chicks, so I don't hawk a lot

Been around the world but I love New York a lotEspecially up in Bedstuy, with those crazy Cuffies

Or in Fort Green, with those crazy Cuffies

Y'all floss like y'all Jay-Z and Puffy's

You get robbed, bucked down by a crazy CuffieBobby

Fuckin' the mics is my hobby

Fuckin' the mics is my hobbyBobby

Bobby

Bobby

Bobby

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