![]() Slug hit your temple, watch your frame shake up If not, twenty-four years, on the wake up If you ain't got the clientele say hell noĬause they gon want they money rain sleet hail snowįollow these rules you'll have mad bread to break up Number ten: a strong word called consignment They be sittin in your kitchen, waitin to start hittin If niggaz think you snitchin ain't tryin listen If you ain't gettin bags stay the fuck from police (uh-huh) Number nine shoulda been number one to me Them cats that squeeze your guns can hold jobs too Number eight: never keep no weight on you Money and blood don't mix like two dicks and no bitch Keep your family and business completely seperated You think a crackhead payin you back, shit forget it Number six: that God damn credit, dead it I don't care if they want a ounce, tell em bounce ![]() Number five: never sell no crack where you rest at She be layin in the bushes to light that ass up Hoodie to mask up, shit, for that fast buck Your moms'll set that ass up, properly gassed up I done squeezed mad clips at these cats for they bricks and chips Number two: never let em know your next moveĭon't you know Bad Boys move in silence or violence If that man fucked up, get your ass stuck up Your game on track, not your wig pushed back ![]() It's rules to this shit, I wrote me a manual I been in this game for years, it made me a animal ![]() Niggaz on the corner I ain't forget you niggaz Nigga can't tell me nothin bout this coke, uh-huhĬan't tell me nothin bout this crack, this weed "One two three four five six seven eight nine"
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