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300 raccs - drakeo the ruler lyrics

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[verse]
grab the suit n tie had to do it to ’em
i ain’t givin out my time to a goofy n*gga
drop a hunnid k on a loser n*gga (laudiano)
the first n*gga send a mug imma crucify ’em
when you with the team, know it’s do or die
hope you keep the same energy when it’s you and i
water on my neck i went scuba divin’
this nina f*ckin’ everybody, put the coochie on ’em
kamikaze thoughts but the doors are suicidal
if rami did yo’ pieces why you always gotta ask sizin’?
don’t got the same check, when i flex i remind n*ggas
back up off my jewelry it’ll blind n*ggas, i’m different
if we hoopin’ shе get stupid, is you high n*gga?
pull up at a n*gga school and ‘calabrine n*ggas
shooters in thе cut with shy glizzy
the mac’s supersized a n*gga up and fried em
i’m buddies with tom, i need my sp*ce
find me boostin’ up the crime rate if crime pays
the last n*gga lost his head talkin’ bout ” i’m g*y ”
shots fired hittin’ hard as bombay
the streets i got the key to, n*gga santé
my flu flammer n*ggas know my feng shui
double d’s on the chop sh*t get naughty
put the beam on a n*gga ask scotty
here put this bag in your stomach, n*gga potty
.223 sh*lls ain’t carryin’ no shotty
got shanaynay in the whip, she’s a hottie
b*tch i’m drakeo, i am not no role model
i’m hot headed, can a dog get a bone?
pipi long made him drop dead
i ain’t even finna play with a stock clip
catch me beatin’ on his head with this chop rounds
he tried to eat a two piece, and got knocked down
heard my presence in the room, make the spot hot
i ain’t worried ’bout these n*ggas i got my chop
foreigns on the corner, b*tch this is my block
confirmed k!lls, we ain’t sending out no pop shots
couple mops in the car i’m with the shottas
if you go against the team you don dada
talk beef, we gon’ turn it into lobster
ruth chris’, i just caught another body
i’m partying with lil meech we at papi’s
that’s the mob b*tch i feel like john gotti
all i need is ben frank and let her sign me
bruce lee kicks, this chopper know karate
work him out, n*gga shoulda knew pilates
you’s a b*tch and them n*ggas you with caca
two chains on i’m finna start a riot
get the uchies, now my insta goin’ private
never speak on what you really do in private
any n*gga can get touched with the midas
from california, in my city i’ma icon
los scandalous, i grew up with the pythons
i get dough i be kickin’ it with tyquan
he portrayin’ he a k!ller ’cause his mic on
bygones be bygones, i’m not that guy
i can’t be that high, gold bottles, baptize ’em
n*ggas get wrapped for me, fn’s and macs on me
do i really gotta say 300 racks by me?
n*ggas get wrapped for me, fn’s and macs on me
do i really gotta say 300 racks on me?
ugh, sh*t we know the truth

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