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This song is by Capone.

(Chorus: jamie matchett)
I just wanna get away sometimes
It's been alot of years, I ain't seen mine.need to get these bustaz off my mind, homie yeah, think I just roll in my 6'4', sittin' on the floor drink a couple of 24's, need-a-lay back, money on my mind, an og gotta get away sometimes.

The rap game home, I've been in it for years, watched em' come and go and I'm still here, rocked many shows, weeks on the road, blood sweatin' tears, got money to fold, made alot of freinds, copped a couple ends, now I'm at the dealer ship coppin' a benz, back on the bus, writing songs again, another rap hit for my mexicans, alot of people hate me 'cause I always win, capone blowin' up when the radio spins, all the hard times never did me in, homies in the hood askin' where you been, out in chicago on a two night deal, windy city gotta pocket for real, stoppin' in detroit for a midnight show, six in the morning yo I'm back on the road homes

I gotta couple more deals before I'm back home, got my kids blowin' up they're daddys cell phone, my carnals say "yo we got some beef" some new booty rappers tryin' to take my streets, I don't sweat that, I got the scene on hold, just sit back, recline and watch you rappers fold, on the two way, spittin' to ya hoe, say when I get back she gonna give me the doe, word on the streets that they love capone cause homies put it down on the microphone, that steelo chicano, so real ermano, I rep mexicano real pesado got my bonita on my lado, hands on the wood, chucks to the throttle, got a three piece for you hatin' vatos, now its off to the club with a crissed out bachos ~yo~

They ain't ready for a rap star quit like me, pullin' up to the show in a 63, no body guards man that ain't fly, walkin' into the club with a brand new nine, v.i.p where girls is fine, ain't gonna dance if the song ain't mine, it sure feels good to have a little shine, gotta alot of money 'cause I gotta-lotta rhyme, brand new house with a pool inside, damn a Mexican done went worldwide, I'm a cool little home from the southern side drink all the cris for all the g's that died, movin' a crowd, now my momma proud, now she got-a couple hundred g's to count, this time is sweet now I'm back on the road, gotta couple more million to fold

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