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Niggas in my faction don't like asking questions
Strictly gun testing, coke measuring
Giving pleasure in the Benz-ito
Hitting fannies, spending chips at Mannies
Hope you creeps got receipts, my peeps get dirty like cleats
Run up in your crib, wrap you up in your Polo sheets
Six up in your wig piece, nigga decease
Mwa, may you rest in peace
With my Sycamore style, more sicker than yours
Four-four, and fifty-four draw
There's my pilot, steers my leer, yes my dear
Shit's official, only, the Feds I fear
Here's a tissue, stop your blood clot crying
The kids the dog, everybody dying -- no lying
So don't you get suspicious
I'm Big Dangerous, you're just a little to Vicious
As I leave my competition, respirator style
Climb the ladder to success escalator style
Hold y'all breath, I told y'all -- death
Controls y'all, Big don't fold y'all, uhh
I spit phrases that'll thrill you
You're nobody 'til somebody kills you
Hardest freestyle ever known to humanity tho
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