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flatline - clika one lyrics

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[intro]
h*ll yeah, get down on dirty on this…
comin’ straight from las vegas
you better believe that

[verse 1]
hey, you messed with the bullet
i came with the flatline
endin’ a b*tch now
bet you ain’t talking sh*t now
see, first you wanted to get down
my n*gga slip ’round (like a b*tch)
so you gettin’ the thick, clown
see, i’ma spit now
adrenaline pumping
buck f*ckin’ with the brain that leave with the aim and the heater, mane
i clip and i ‘cane
that’s on everything
b*tch, you f*cked with my game
and i blew out your brains
you lived for the fame
so i gave you the name
the b*tch motherf*cker that wanted to bang
and f*cked with me rapping
my cohete can sang
i crept through the back of yo pad with a rack and a mac
with a scope and a (gat)
with the locs and the (hat)
and a sack of that (what?)
it was [?] than black
so i took me a heater and prepared for the moving in slowly
from the what, do you know me?
with a blunt then the forty
had a crib by the lonely
you had to strap for the homie
and then you wanted to blow me
now can you control me?
can you get what you owe me?
see, the homie once told me
“put a gat in yo waist
and some incense in yo pocket.”
and pulled out the bullet wounds that he showed me
i was taking it slowly
from the critical overdose, toking the smoke
i was hoping to choke
from them bullets and hoes
through the nose
what you know, that’s the way that the story goes
you better call the po’
cuz i’m coming to (k!ll, k!ll, k!ll..)
i’ma keep it real
see, i’m aiming to steal, wreck them hoes
[?] attempt to k!ll
see, i accept the deal
but i neglect to feel
when i prepare the bill
(spark that sh*t up, man..)

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