| My mind just goes off and wonders, cause it ain’t stable
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| See I be fantasizing, bout putting food on the table
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| Cause in the ghetto my hood, prison is promised to us
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| Some of us let jail teach us, some let college do it
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| They think I’m nothing, cause I don’t get up and get a job
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| But I be trying the only thing I get, is getting hard
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| I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired, holla if you hear me
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| And you with me now, got my life right with God
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| You hatas come and get me now, fifty rounds
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| Is what I’mma be spraying, that’s on my mama God rest her soul
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| Nigga picture me playing, foes gon read and deed follow my lead
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| When I’m sober I can’t focus, pass that weed to me
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| And dedications all day long, seem like when I’m going
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| Through it my partnas stay gone, but its all gravy baby
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| Cause I want you to hate me, calico gon stay off safety
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| Murder motherfuckers, if they make me
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| Will I go crazy, I don’t know
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| The pain is fucking with me lately, but it don’t show
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| I can’t let it faze me, cause I can’t stop
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| I’m more than just a ghetto baby, cause I’mma reach the top
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| Like Pac, I’ll be the last motherfucker in this bitch freezing
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| And feel me money over niggas, be my pledge of allegiance
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| Whether I sang or I heat you, I’mma wait till I’m sinking
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| No dirt inside my credentials, bitches gon have they own reasons
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| This how we up in the game, I’m bout my paper fuck fame
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| The last day you gon see, we roll down feeling shame
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| This how the lessons gangstafied, paper chasing since youth
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| Bet not go squabbling for respect, to see who got the most juice
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| I been a witness to the struggle, days and spots have been missed
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| The devil huffing like a wolf, that’s why I’m building with bricks
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| I seen and heard plenty shit, from ghetto baby to woman
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| Its either keep your head above the water, or get swept under
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| Been a guerilla in the midst, this matching soldier be marching
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| Now valet and curb service, more sauce for handicap parking
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| When more days get brighter, my tribulations get lighter
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| More shalant about my life, now I’m a Southern street fighter
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| Don’t be telling me bout no riff-raff, I’m busta-free
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| All about my wealthy, don’t need nobody to fuck with me
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| I’mma keep my twelve gauge, the only company I need
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| Can’t forget about hydro, and a pint of codeine
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| Flipping to Austin from Houston, on a mission to make feddy
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| Either stop fucking with some of my people, cause they wasn’t ready
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| But the whole wide world, its just me and my dreams
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| And anybody roll Glock, is gon be seeing my beam
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| Went from dirt packs to platinum, watch the jealous one hating
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| To see who’s real from the fake, and thank the Lord what I make
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| Hard times brought tears, misery if you last
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| Realize I wasn’t gon be shit, if I didn’t get off my ass
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| For the ones who was there, anticipated my fall
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| I cry still on death field, but I can ball and stood tall
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| Now Miss Dameanor live lavage, went from broke to hood rich
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| Plan to live to the fullest, then I’m up outta this bitch |