| My cup runneth over with Pinot Grigio, hold up
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| You bogus in the lambo if you ain’t lifting the door up
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| You bogus poppin' pills if you ain’t pickin' the ho up
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| You bogus running out on your kids my nigga grow up
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| For God’s sake, like a wedding, cutting large cake
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| For large stakes let the hammer bang broad day
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| Ay, nevermind what the blogs say
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| This what my mind and my heart say
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| My philosophy profit off of my properties
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| Get it, flip it, we got to be rich, that broke shit is obsolete
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| Possibly off of my rocker, watch how you watching me
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| Sophisticated, psychotic, fly as a pilot
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| Officially silent, all you wish you could get I got it
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| Unlimited titanium nigga, what’s in yo wallet?
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| Out of gladiator college, I made it summa cum laude
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| While you clowns couldn’t have got a cap and gown if you bought it
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| I parlay with Saudis, buying crude oil and diamonds
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| Hustle January, July, fly to Dubai
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| A broke nigga telling me 'bout how I’m dividing the pies
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| Like a blind nigga telling me it’s an eye for an eye
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| Bullheaded and stubborn I be that way until I die
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| But find a nigga with more hustle than me I dare you to try
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| And according to the hand on my Audemar
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| It’s my time to shine so fuck y’all
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| What should I be sorry for
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| Who should I be sorry to
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| What should I be sorry for
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| Who should I be sorry to
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| The fact is you can’t please everybody
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| You can’t please everybody
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| What should I be sorry for
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| Who should I be sorry to
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| I grew up in the gutter, life a motherfucker
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| I get that why I don’t trust a motherfucker
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| Seen a nigga snitch on they mom, shoot at they brother
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| Go to prison in love with a bitch and a nigga fuck her
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| I seen real G’s destroyed by real suckers
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| Innocent ladies raped and defenseless babies abducted
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| Such a horrible truth, but you see it over and over
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| It’s nothing, you numb to it and your heart grow colder
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| Pacify your pain with a chain and a Rover
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| Fuck it, justify your action by stacking your dough up
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| You show up with a brick of cocaine and baking soda
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| Just enough for me to blow up, nigga hold up
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| Switch the flow up, cause these niggas be snitchin' so much
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| I promise all they missing’s the badge, coffee, and donut
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| Go to jail so what, never see my integrity perish
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| That ain’t the Harris' way, study my pedigree
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| Promise I’m one of the only ones who keep it 100
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| Probably why I think they all out to get me, you can’t convince me
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| Large money and fame will plant seeds of envy
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| To make my partners resent me enough to come and get me
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| Catch me slippin' and hit me, just like they did 50
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| Cause I’m in the position that he think he should be given
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| Listen, dawg, the fact of the matter is
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| I’m on a narrow path and we all can’t travel
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| What should I be sorry for
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| Who should I be sorry to
|
| What should I be sorry for
|
| Who should I be sorry to
|
| The fact is you can’t please everybody
|
| You can’t please everybody
|
| What should I be sorry for
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| Who should I be sorry to
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| What it ain’t, what it is?
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| Even if you gotta live
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| I learned that apartment is way more exciting than a big ass house on a hill
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| I used to be a way better writer and a rapper
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| When I used to want a black Karmann Ghia
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| Now a nigga speeding in a Porsche
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| Feeling like I’m going off a course
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| Cut these fuck niggas off
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| Nigga Tip in my life, scream that till I’m hoarse
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| Duck these get the fuck off me projectiles,
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| Bitch you ain’t really got a choice
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| I’m living my life live yours
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| I don’t even like rapping fast, but that’s how the word come to me
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| Talk to me sideways nigga that’s your ass
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| Slow it down, this that shit that’ll make you call your momma
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| Say hey I’m sorry for begging for all them clothes you couldn’t afford
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| And this the type of shit that’ll make you call your rap partner
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| And say I’m sorry I’m awkward, my fault for fuckin' up the tours
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| I hated all the attention so I ran from it
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| Fuck it if we did, but I hope we ain’t lose no fans from it
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| I’m a grown-ass kid, you know ain’t never cared about no damn money
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| Why do we try so hard to be stars, just to dodge comments
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| And this that shit that’ll make you call your baby mama
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| When you gone on half a pill, don’t know why but that I did |
| Then you take a flight back to the crib, y’all make love like college kids
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| And you say all the shit you gon' do better, we can try this shit again
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| 'Round the time the dope wear off, you feel stupid, she feel lost
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| That’s that dope, I mean, I mean dopamine you think Cupid done worn off
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| Waiting in the hallway with her arms crossed
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| Her baby boy face full of applesauce
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| Maybe should have stayed but it ain’t yo fault
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| Too much pressure, I fell off, I’m sorry
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| Was young and had to choose between you
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| And what the rest of the world might offer me, shit what would you do
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| Well I’d probably do it differently if second the chance
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| Only if some cool ass older man would’ve let me know in advance
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| This, this quarry, that is dug so deep in a father’s chest
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| When he feel that he’s broken up his nest
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| And he figured shit he was just doing the best that he could
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| Which end up being the worst that he could
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| And all some pussy nigga on the internet can say is that verse ain’t good
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| It’s boring — boring?
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| Really?
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| When I’m disgusted with this world and I can hardly breathe and
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| Told so many lies, don’t know what to believe
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| I discussed it with this girl, and this is what she said
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| She said lay down baby, baby, rest your weary head up
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| I love these distractions but my mind don’t wanna rest
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| But my body disagree so I laid up on her breasts, yes
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| Ooh, you are so fucking fine
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| I woke up the next morning with new purpose on my mind
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| Ooh, who pulls your ponytail
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| Who knows your body well
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| What should I be sorry for?
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| Who should I be sorry to? |