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Correct Hide The Cameras Lyrics
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Correct Hide The Cameras
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I know some suckers out the city plottin', creepin' up on me Ex-bitches [?] niggas still speakin' up on me See this the thanks I get for makin' waves for all you niggas? Put two hands together, still I pray for all you niggas You dig, she shake her shit, I shake the grit In Bed-Stuy I'm with my dogs getting blitzed Suited up 'cause I'm 'bout my bizz Moved up [?] I'm countin' blessings, you counterfeit They don't know what to do with us Only papers you can do the dutch Your raps suck they ain't true enough Say she don't know who to trust Well shit that make two of us Shake it up though, move your butt Fuck a price and I can move you up The gang signs ain't foolin' us Don't clutch that unless you gon' bust Learned that from the big homies I ain't have no big brother But I been on since du-rags with the split colors I hope the cops don't kill me 'cause of my skin color Always stuck to the code, stuck to the pin number Okay go 'head, bet that shit say "Porsche" under my VIN number Okay yep yep, my little baby got a little past but I still love her Mhm yeah, said shit in side rooms, yeah it got misconstrued Try to give a helping hand, they pull you down to lose Still Good Vibe Tribe don't get shit confused Oh that's with your crew, I disapprove OG got me glued, stuck No sour diesel I'm cool Go Vin Diesel in the Coupe Oh that's your main bae? She let me go in her From the I.E. really makin' bands off medical center Still gettin' head on the highway like a real nigga Still don't talk when it's in person I'ma deal with you Cut it off all the dead weight Now we winnin' got the bread straight On the court got the ball back Now you frauds wanna call back Lose my number when you finally realize what a young nigga worth Or lose my number when you realize all your fuckin' plans ain't work Then watch me Go berserk, hide the cameras Like a pimp, David Banner I pull the strings, Carlos Santana Nigga got his heart broken, Atlanta My dog got a car loaded, them hammers But I still got my ex waitin' on a text Still lots of freaks waitin' on sex I ain't pressed nah, I ain't pressed nah Tell me somethin' new I ain't heard the best Teddy Riley got 'em askin' "What's next?" Put your clothes on, baby hit the steps I ain't pressed nah, I ain't pressed nah Sell me somethin' new I don't see no threats I don't like no pictures, and I don't like no snitches Kill the beat, close your eyes, I don't like no witness Push-ups for fitness, and kush-ups I'm lifted And you said it I did it, that's exactly the difference Nothing after the squad [?] we doin' this often I done changed to a loft and had a crib you get lost in Only thing I learned 'bout when you young and you bossin' Is that niggas start gettin' fake when you start takin' losses Whoa, that's my ex, been waitin' on that text Whoa, that's your ex, waitin' on the sex But she ain't bad enough, and she ain't got no soul We say "yeah" to the queens, big "no's" to the hoes No manners they bold now, do not get exposed Sad women and money, that's X's and O's They respect it at shows, I'm too high for the lows This for my family and all my bros, no cameras
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