Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free
I'm cold on the cold turkey
Skill to skill, i kill to kill
Outkast landed, 3 thou was ill
We got stripes in my city, ain't none of my niggas yankees though
These story's are cold, stopped blood flow, evils you know , don't slow
You're our own flesh and blood/
I said i don’t give a fuck
Oh you murder? i accidentally kill
Takin' shots of poon juice to the head for a cheap thrill
Full up to fuck with blood,
I’m coming back like light-skin and
Thats spits lyrics so cold
I say that the pool is closed
So fuckin' awesome, kickin' rhymes cold,
Can’t tell your girl so she the center fold
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