San Fernando Valley, where I was raised
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A hundred pounds of weed in trash bags
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It's crazy to be where I'm at
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We started kicking doors, times were hard
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Now everything changed, I got money for sure
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We're the tough ones, they gotta see me strapped
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I'm a product of the streets, bro, I'm from the hood
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Here we do everything to get ahead
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And I'm tough, bro, pull another bump
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We're flying down the Five
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In the Prius, black trash bags of fifty-five
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The Louis Vuitton backpack stuffed full
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The Centenario shines from far away
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Stay sharp about who you let eat at your table
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They just fill up with envy and the backstabs come
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It doesn't affect me, I don't give a f*ck about a b*tch, let's run it
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'Don't talk much, son,' my mother always advised
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Better to be king of your silence than slave of your words
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We're flying down the Five
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In the Prius, black trash bags of fifty-five
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The Louis Vuitton backpack stuffed full
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The Centenario shines from far away