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Fes Taylor
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Eyes Wide Shut
[Hue Hefna:] These niggas must be dreaming, thinking they gon' stop my shine I pop my nine, sweetie, it's a lullabye Bum nigga, he done stole my pack, why Fuck a fiend, your little schemes only mean you be smoking crack It's really nothing cause I'm holding stacks Everything I accomplish, and you fiending for a taste of that I put on like Jeezy, I done made bread Off the carter, nigga, more than three times like Weezy I been a star since 9, on TV I done moved up on the eastside like Weasie Jefferson the block I'm from, and I moved to the Hill I got a steel and I pop my gun Nigga, one pop, two pop, three shot you dead Your family tellin', they gon' have me in the feds
[Chorus x4: Air Supply 'Sweet Dreams' sample w/ ad-libs] Close your eyes I want to ride the skies In my sweet dreams
[D.C.:] I said D.C., I keep it official, ya'll niggas is cake Soft on the outside, sweet in the middle My niggas outside deep with they pistols at any mention of beef We in the streets, til you sleep where the fish do And you don't wanna beef with ya man Donnie Cause Donnie's not a man, see I'm a beast in a man's body That piece in my hand'll probably leave only a piece of your man's body Laying in the streets of the damn lobby, you can't stop The hands rocky, the wrist dude is igloo The necklace like it was just dipped in crystal The kid smooth but I get Ravishing Rick Rude And faggots get to acting, get 'em clapped with a big tool Kids kidnapped from the kids school, probably think I'm kidding Find the kids, giftwrapped by the big pool I'm big news like Christopher Wallace, you know that big dude And French cool, addicted to dollars, that's how the kid move
[Chorus x4]
[Fes Taylor:] I said you ain't even half a man, my block similar to Pakistan Clap your man, you be up in half a gram Scram, you ain't getting no money, don't even talk to me I'm getting paper til the streets put chalk to me New York with me, police bitches call 'em Miss Piggy Fuck 'em and leave 'em, ma, it's just a quickie Made a dance to my song, call it the Rice Krispie Snap, crackle & pop, my hood Vice City Nah, Vietnam, so I hold firearms like the Vietkong Niggas wanna be the don King of the game, last CD, King of Hearts My flow like a tsunami, nigga bring the ark Fes Taylor, last seen in the biz I'm waiting for a bailout, you see me in the pens Bang with the D's, shit I'd rather be a dead man For he trap me again in the back of that red van
[Chorus x4]
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