Yo, wassup? I forgot to tell, that last night, I hung out with my hommies, and we wrote this gangsta rap
it's da shit man, dig it!
Gettin' richer and richer, the press took my picture
But I still supplied, some people I knew died
Murders and homicides for bottles of suicide
Money, jewelry, livin' like a star
And I wasn't too far from a Jaguar
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