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I woke up at noon still aching from the previous |
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Job i had to do last night, shit was serious |
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Got up out my bed, and picked up my pointsetta |
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And put him on the balcony so he could get a |
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Little bit of city sun just to quench his thirst |
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Plants gotta live too, 'cause they feed the earth |
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Just then i got a call from pete slash blinky jones |
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He said to meet him down a donny's house of pork and bones |
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And bring the little girl, who people knew as matilda |
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And often, who i say before gestapo could have killed her |
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Picked up my grip, let it slide into the holster |
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Although most of, them niggas fear me i'm supposed to |
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Protect my neck, if not mine then big petey's |
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Dipped in the door so no one could even see me |
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I told matilda "wait outside for me boo" |
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'cause the professional's always confidential, it's true |
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Then pete said "yo, you know mikey budafeuco?" |
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The mafucker cut my last shipment of bazooko |
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And laced it with soda, so much that you could taste |
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That slimy ????, i'll make him taste paste |
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I said "yo, boss hit me with the source" |
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And his whole family of course, you know what i mean |
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Just hit me with the green and i'll see what i can do |
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To mikey budafeu, he said "straight, arrange your crew" |
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But that's a no no, the pro only murders solo |
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I almost lost my life working with teams out in soho |
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California beach, we was storming the place |
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Fucked around and almost got buck by scarface |
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Tony montana, but that's another story |
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A whole other chapter, check the library |
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Went back to my crib, kissed matilda goodbye |
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She started to cry, the sight brought tears to my eys |
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The next day made my connection, check my directon |
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My flight to chicago, first class section |
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I didn't recognize no one on the plane, this was strange |
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My inside man was no where that i could claim |
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The stewardess was over polite, i wondered why |
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But i didn't give a fuck this trick was mad fly |
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Speaking of fly, the pilot turned on the intercom |
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Talking some kind of code something was wrong |
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Everyone got out of their chairs calmly, and grabbed their stuff |
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I tried to raise up, but my seat belt was tcuk |
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Dig it, cool don't panic, i said "excuse me, my seat belt's broken" |
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Then the back door opened, shit |
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I hear it close and my belt unlock |
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Turn around and there was four mafuckers with glocks |
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Pointed straight to my dome piece, grabbed my chrome piece |
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And licked two shots leaving four men deceased |
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But how the fuck did two bullets kill four niggas |
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Checked out the cock and found the pilot's cranium disfigured |
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The click, another piece to my head bone |
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Turn around and greet ms cleopatra jones |
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"how ya doing baby? she said, "i'm chill how 'bout you?" |
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"petey sent me as your crew, so what yo gonna do?" |
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I landed the plane, checked in the hotel |
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Horny like a mafucker from the ho smell |
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Broke to the bathroom to clean myself, then she snuck in |
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Naked to the pussy, straight up shower fuckin' |
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The walls were shattering with echoes |
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But ain't a question that killing mafuckers ain't my only profession |
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Not after two hours of killing crotch |
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Hit the sack, woke up early to plan my plot *echoed* |
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** 4 seconds of silence ** |
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It was a mansion on the outskirts of chicago, i clout |
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Hood went by the name of mikey budafeuco didn't like me |
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Ms jones was around back i took the front gates |
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Two punks on guard with uzis strapped to their waist |
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Strolled towards a door, but pizano was like |
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"yo, who the fuck are you?" then i pulled out my knife |
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Slow, without a whipser or hint of hesitation |
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Made one quick slash and committed decapitation |
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Left the knife in the neck of the man on the left |
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And hoppedover the fence, took a short breath *whew* |
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It didn't take but a second to wait |
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The rotwilders went psycho, i took one knee and grabbed my rifle |
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And popped every last one of them sons of bitches |
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Motivated like a mother by the riches, but no glitches |
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Got to the door, which is the right button |
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Red, yellow, or blue, pushed the blue then all of a sudden |
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I heard footsteps of at least three men running sporting mack 10s |
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Backflip under the porch and |
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Pulled out my piano wire and wrapped it tight |
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'round my fists, made it quick with very little fight |
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Grabbed the fool on the right and silenced his ass |
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Nigga on the left, a strangle was his death |
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Motherfucker in the middle, play the monkey caught a cap |
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Sucking my barrel like a crack junkie |
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Got through the door and it was straight war |
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Camo-flague gear getting torn by my ammo |
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Run up the stairs, tripping over dead thugs |
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Put they family to shame for fucking with my nigga's drugs |
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Upon the second floor was faced with three doors, chose the first |
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A ninja master showing his thirst for my life |
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But little did he know i be trained |
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Akido's my middle name, put his ass to shame |
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Open the next door and out came kareem |
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Jabbar, a barefoot size seventeen |
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I said "choose your style" and nigga said "ostrich" |
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Yeah sure nigga look more like he took one for hostage |
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Swinging his shits with no style at all |
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One swing of my sword left him four feet tall |
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Third door opend slowly only to show |
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Cleopatra getting fuck by mikey budafeuco |
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At gunpont the bitch turned straight to heather hunter |
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On a steroid, banging this fool like she wants to |
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He didn't know i was there so i moved around the front |
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Rubber gripping, pointed at his dome started tripping |
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And pleading with my ass as if it ain't my job |
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To eliminate the families of punks who rob |
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Pull your dick out nigga this ain't no freak show |
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Let 'em go 'cause he got touched by the professional |
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My flight was straight sex in the private jet |
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Heading home to collect my fitty dollar check |
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I'm out *echoed* |