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[Hook: D'banj] |
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[Verse 1: Raekwon] |
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[Verse 2: Common] |
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[Verse 3: Pusha T] |
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[Verse 4: 2 Chainz] |
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Stutterin' |
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Givin'em rest and makin' love again |
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In my best I be the run again |
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And I have the man dem stutterin' |
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I'm getting this ***** in the morning |
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He gon' think he been chiefin just too long when |
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He see me in the evenin' |
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Want to catch all these feelin |
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Well let me be the first to get mine |
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Ay yo, ay yo, barbeque and blow in the back of the crib |
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Sittin’and countin’, smoking a spliff, this *****t’s a gift |
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All my *****s watches is rough |
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Grabbing our crotches yelling ‘’What up?’’ |
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The jeans cost $500? ***** |
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Stop it, keep baking, see, the smell it’s a statement |
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One freeze of this *****t, you won’t feel your legs kid |
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I’m a gangsta corporate hustla, my voice is illustrious |
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Hounded by vicious dons, ***** we armed, trust me bruh |
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They yellin' Chef, kill the plate with the cooks |
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I say 'Ye with 2 Chainz on, we Common, let's Push |
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Burn another bush, then burn another we brothers |
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Love us or not, the Mark Zuckerbergs of the block |
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Hug a knot, staying rich, we was built for the guap |
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Park the green six deuce on the deuce just props |
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Rock a kilt, mean Glock I’m all machinery, ock |
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Cling to me, now see how the scenery rock? |
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I’m getting this ***** in the morning |
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He gon’ think he been chiefin just too long when |
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He see me in the evenin’ |
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Want to catch all these feelin |
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Well let me be the first to get mine |
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I was born by a late chicken shack and a church |
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That mean the flow got wings and it come from the dirt |
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Golly, I know she wanna test the ‘Rari |
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Eye on a dollar like Illuminati |
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Life is foggy, tryin’ to see through the mist of it |
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Could have been livin’ it, you was Mrs. Mischievous |
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This is just a letter to better your development |
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Situation delicate |
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Some claim God body, blame Illuminati |
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All cause his pockets now knotty as his hair |
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Yeah |
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All Sonny no Cher, only solitaires |
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You cluster*****s could cluster up |
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On tippy-toe and still not muster up so its |
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Ashes to ashes, dust to dust |
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In God we trust, the game is all us |
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Til’ the sky calls or its flames on us |
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Push |
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I’m getting this ***** in the morning |
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He gon’ think he been chiefin just too long when |
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He see me in the evenin’ |
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Want to catch all these feelin |
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Well let me be the first to get mine |
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2 Chainz |
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I’m chillin’ in my camo, flippin’ through the channel |
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On my G.O.O.D. Music *****t, my logo’s a Lambo (damn) |
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Four doors of ammo |
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Ammunition I’m pitchin’ to make your body switch another position |
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I hope the people is listening |
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I could never sell my soul, I gave it back to God at my christening |
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Its tickelin’ when I hear what haters be whisperin’ |
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What makes you think an Illuminati would ever let some *****s in? |
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Fake friends and siblings, like to wish you well but ain’t never flip the nickel in |
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Haters wanna pull they pistol when they see me in this race car |
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But you can’t spell war without an A-R |
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15 I was pu*****ng carts at K-Mart |
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By 21 they said I’d be inside a graveyard |
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Can’t wait to get that black American Express |
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So I can show them white folks how to really pull the race card |
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Yeah, you feelin’ on top now, getting that money *****? |
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(You sold your soul) |
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Yeah, you feelin’ on top now, getting that money *****? |
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(You sold your soul) |
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Yeah, you feelin’ on top now, getting that money *****? |
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(Naw man, mad people was frontin’ |
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Aw man, made something from nothing) |
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I treat the label like money from my shows |
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G.O.O.D. would’ve been God except I added more o’s |
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If I knew she was cheatin’ I’d still’ve bought her more clothes |
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‘Cause I was too busy with my Baltimore- you know |
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Some people call that the art of war you know |
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I guess it depends what you fallin’ for |
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The clothes,cars, money, girls and the clothes |
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Aw money, you sold your soul |
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Nah man, mad people was ’frontin |
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God damn, we made something from nothing |
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