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Artist: Clika One f/ Don Cisco, Kurupt
Album:  Steppin' Up Game
Song:   Places to Go
Typed by: no1wammy@hotmail.com

Chorus: G Money
I got people to see (People to see)
Got places to go (Places to go)
A hustler fa' sho (A hustler fa' sho)
And to fuck it on the low (It on the low)
Can't you see I'm a G (See I'm a G)
I've been working these streets (Working these streets)
I'm stackin' my cheese (I'm stackin' my cheese)
Ch-ching, all I can see (All I can see)

(Verse 1)
[Don Cisco] Man, I'm a Cadillac dip, skip
            Daddy's home back, with it
            Frisco Mac and Mac Dre, so get a backwood and split it
            Oh yes
            At our best, prime time
            And finesse the game, dipped in butter
            Now we shine
            Comin' with that vintage rap, Don Ciscalino
            G.P.I. hash and Cisco, C-note
            My rap goes like rich gain, slammin' dominoes
            Blues on my shoulders, should I kill 'em?
[Kurupt]    Get the calico
[Don Cisco] My own mama knows, I put that on seek
            Cous' even got proof, of the truth, all you know I'm a lead us
            If you look at hearts of many, find rhyme and reason
            But only ya mind and soul control who you believin'
            So me and Jesus do our thang, keep on breathin'
            Ain't trippin' off haters, got too many places to be in
            Now, what I'm seein'
            Some people got two faces
            Not Korean, but bet you talk Chinese
            Stuck in these fake cases

Repeat Chorus

[Verse 2: Kurupt]
Gotti shake quakes, I spread headaches
I'm sick
Mobile leukemia
Verbal sickle cell
Fresh from a cell
Fresh out my shell
Waste full of shells
Fresh out the spot
Rave parking lots
Prey parking lots
Got my hecklin'
Conch out the Bach's
In and out the box
Let me tell you what the fuck I talk about, shots
Infect the blocks
We serve infections
Click One, Don Ciscone, my homies
I am fury
I am the pure
Gotti
Adolf Hitler, what can I do for ya?
He don't wanna fuck with the young hog, nigga
Let it spark, get chipped, like (???), nigga
I got an example to set
In that black Monte Carlo, nigga
All purple and wet
I

Repeat Chorus

[Verse 3: Brown]
Yeah
I'm on the move, ain't no time for sleep
I'm a go and get this money til I'm R.I.P.
I got, people to feed, I got people to see
And I been had credit since I got my first P.
G.P.I. Click spittin' this heat
Brown still Gangsta Pimpin', dippin' these streets
I split the cigarello fill in the beat
Let it burn
Like them heaters when them Click One gangstas beef
I see ya later, hater
I see ya grindin' teeth
Got a show, I gotta go, yo, I'm stackin' my cheese
I ain't got time for hate, jealous guys, I shake
Now watch how I flip them lines like them rhymes was weight
Look at my face
Brown skin, bald-headed, rhyme from the pen
I'm calm-headed, but I'm raw with the pen
Keep it real for my homies that are still in the pen
Hold it down, I'm a see you when you back in the Sin

Repeat Chorus

[Verse 4: Romero]
Went from the most underrated, to most highly anticipated
From (???), Cali to Vegas, it's Gangsta Pimpin' Incorporated
Grippin' and runnin', pushin' weight like a sumo
Romero el mero mero from the Click to the uno
Blowin' out, flew out the sunroof, bending the block
I'm (???) traction off the track, so I could never fall off
See me shinin' this year, the sun kissed the floor
God handed us the keys, but still, we kicked in the door
I guess our motherfuckin' high went from birds to the plane
Like a 747, 'bout to crash in the game
Let's destroy and rebuild, and kick them busters out
My big homie Gotti got his shotgun on your mouth
BLAOW!
Blow your brains back backwards
Twisted up like them backwoods, act up and get clapped up
Got places to go
Got fedi' to stack up
You ready or not
You motherfuckers best back up

Repeat Chorus