Luis Resto - Places to Go lyrics

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Luis Resto - Places to Go lyrics

[Intro] Yeah Shady.... Aftermath..... G-UNIT!! [Hook] I got places to go, got people to see The penitentiary ain't the place for me I'm warning you, do not tempt me I'll run up and squeeze it, put a hole in you [Verse 1] You mistaking me for somebody that you should be testin' You should be stressing, I'm fitting to f**ing teach you a lesson Rap 101's in session, Em laced the track that I'm blessin' Smith and Wesson's the weapon in case you was guessin' Capping 'em, kept in my Benz, hot beginning to end Watch the 22's spin, my hoes they perfect ten I got shot up but I got up and I'm back at it again Motherf**ers that thought I wouldn't win pretend to be friends At first you fail, try, try, try, try again I'm the best, don't you get it? Forget it, when I spit it, it's crazy You love it, admit it, you like that I live it, it's Shady Aftermath in your a**, b**h If it's not a cla**ic when it's done we trash it Flow I got it mastered, stunt and get your a** kicked, ba*tard When measures get drastic, Glocks made out of plastic co*k it, aim it, blast it, run n***a, now stash it [Hook] [Bridge] If there's a genie in a bottle of that Dom Perignon I'mma drink til I get to that b**h Em and Dre gonna introduce me to the 'burbs They gonna listen to my words In the hood they feel my sh** (Break it down) [Verse 2] Picture a perfect picture, picture me in a pimp hat Picture me starting sh**, picture me busting my gat Picture police mad they ain't got a picture of that Picture me being broke, picture me smoking a sack Picture me coming up, picture me rich from rap Picture me blowing up, now picture me going back To my momma's basement to live, sh**, picture that Where I'm from it's a fact, you gotta watch your back You wear a vest without a gat, you's a target, Jack Hustle hard, money stack, sell that dope, sell that crack Sell that pack, sell that gat, sell that p**y, holla back 50 Cent, too much Henny, man, I'm bent, I'm outta here [Hook] [Outro] Man, I ain't' going to jail, not even to visit a n***a You wanna holler at me you write me Matter of fact you gotta send it to Sunset Blvd up in the Mondrian Riding around in one of Dre's Ferrari's, n***a Oh, matter fact, I might be in Detroit riding down 8 Mile Road You know, in one of Em's joints and sh**, you heard? I got places to go man, you know Shady Aftermath, we fitting to start printing money Putting Em's faces on these motherf**ing bills, sh** Ain't sh** you can do about it

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