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I know you niggaz ain't fuckin' with me
 How dare these niggaz try to fuckin hate on me
 Come out and make records sound just like me
 But nobody does this here quite like me
 Now let me tell a little something 'bout me
 Pops tags, things fresh to death like me
 Who pulls more whips out the stash than me
 Y'all bitches wanna ride, c'mon it's on me
 I guess it's my time, all eyes is on me
 
 Man everybody wanna rhyme like Rule, sing like Rule
 Talk some shit to get they name on the news
 Papers, haters never pay they dues
 Always got to be in somebdy shoes
 Walk with me, or ride this on Bentley
 With the rims you can sit in
 Or the Enzo with them TV's that's hidden
 I stay in menages with various women
 Huh, I'm just kiddin' that's not how I'm livinThe realest, the nigga in the realest state
 I got real estates in different states, go figure
 Cause I ain't singing you'se a +Gold Digger+
 But bitches, +you ain't fuckin' with no broke niggaz+
 That's why I ride, ain't you see I put you on the CLS
 We on the point your voice sound like sex, yes
 There's no real way to stop me, that's why y'all copy
 I know you niggaz ain't fuckin' with me
 
 Yea, I know, one more gin, bitch you better come on in
 Relax a while, sip on hypno and henn
 I like your style, you're so old school
 In them Sasson Vidals, fiftyfour eleven
 Reebok classics Remind me of '87 when
 Niggaz was playing with blocks like little kids and
 Even though we men we still big wheelinStill cop cribs, six beds, four baths, high ceilings
 All of the art of drug-dealin' cause every mil
 Is two for me, when it's all tax-free
 Pray for God's children, all except for me
 I'mma walk in the path the Lord has paved for me
 One foot at a time, niggaz follow my footsteps
 Put the world on my shoulders, leave one set of footprints
 Man, y'all motherfuckers can't stop me, that's why y'all copy
 I know you niggaz ain't fuckin' with me
 
 I know what niggaz to do right, can't do no wrong
 And everything's alright, then lyrically goes wrong
 No part to piss in, no shoulder to cry on
 You get to thinkin' why can't we let by-gones be by-gones
 Rule the icon, who killed the industry like iPods
 Had these niggaz runnin' like track stars
 Except runnin' backwards when I sit back rollin' the backwoods
 Loadin' my trey-duece for them niggaz that act hood
 Ridin' my six-duece uptown, I'm so hood
 Bitches love the coupes when them doors swing upwards
 Money long, I'm putting from the green like T-Woods
 Is not to be confused with white good
 White gold should never be percieved as platinum
 And cubic-zirconia never gon' shine like diamonds
 Cause, no matter how hard they copy, they still not me
 Y'all bitch niggaz ain't fuckin' with me
  
            
 
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