| I start out, just to vibe out, I ain’t about to bow out,
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| I’m more gangsta than you are but I ain’t about the rou' rou'.
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| My season will come, it has to,
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| Honestly I feel like I’m ten months pregnant or something, I’m passed due.
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| Sincerely I’m touchy these days I can’t take nothing,
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| I’m tryna treat my record like the law, shit I’m dying to break something,
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| And mostly, I’m up and stressin', when other folks sleep.
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| Believe me, I know struggle, and struggle knows me.
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| My life owes me, like an overdose I’m slowly,
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| Drifting in the arms of trouble, than trouble holds me,
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| And nothing else is close to me, more than pain unfortunately,
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| Like a self fulfilling prophecy, I’m suppose to be:
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| Strugglin', and it’s trouble in, in this circumstance I’m dwelling in,
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| I find myself in the corner huddling, with some angry men,
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| And I gotta settle shit again before they gotta kill again.
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| I’m strugglin', and it’s trouble in, in this circumstance I’m dwelling in.
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| I find myself in the corner huddlin', with some angry men,
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| and I gotta settle shit again, before they gotta kill again.
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| I should be chillin' on beaches, instead my bone freezes,
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| Ducking glocks and I walks, well, like Jesus.
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| The realest thing for me is since I was a fetus,
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| The only break I ever got, was at recess.
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| So legitimately, I remain very little relieved,
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| And at thug rappers, I remain very little intrigued,
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| and can you blame me?
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| Look how we lived in the late eighties,
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| Throwing rocks at the crazy ladies, and when we’d play these,
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| Crazy games, the whole crew had crazy names, we
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| even had a cripple we use to call em lazy legs.
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| But my faith remains, untouched and unchanged,
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| Still in my block you hear more shots than a gun range,
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| I’m…
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| Strugglin', and it’s trouble in, in this circumstance I’m dwelling in,
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| I find myself in the corner huddling, with some angry men,
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| And I gotta settle shit again before they gotta kill again.
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| I’m strugglin', and it’s trouble in, in this circumstance I’m dwelling in.
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| I find myself in the corner huddlin', with some angry men,
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| and I gotta settle shit again, before they gotta kill again.
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| Aight aight, more to the truth, no writing, just record me at the booth,
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| Forced by the loop and the guitar but I’m the boss of the groove.
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| I speak truth my deep roots remain in equal danger,
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| The pain on my song is crazy but the sequel is stranger.
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| Hey man, I’m from the hardest heartless projects.
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| Dear departed I’m now known as a recording artist.
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| Spilling what little remains of your memories in the process,
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| Bitter a little, but making your names in to a colossus.
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| Believe me, I’m thankful my brother’s still with me,
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| And ain’t much changed Bobby is still troubling Whitney,
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| And Bush is still bombing poor people yo he’s deadly,
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| And me I got a little recording
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| gig but evidently
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| I’m…
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| Strugglin', and it’s trouble in, in this circumstance I’m dwelling in,
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| I find myself in the corner huddling, with some angry men,
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| And I gotta settle shit again before they gotta kill again.
|
| I’m strugglin', and it’s trouble in, in this circumstance I’m dwelling in.
|
| I find myself in the corner huddlin', with some angry men,
|
| and I gotta settle shit again, before they gotta kill again.
|
| Strugglin', and it’s trouble in, in this circumstance I’m dwelling in,
|
| I find myself in the corner huddling, with some angry men,
|
| And I gotta settle shit again before they gotta kill again.
|
| I’m strugglin', and it’s trouble in, in this circumstance I’m dwelling in.
|
| I find myself in the corner huddlin', with some angry men,
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| and I gotta settle shit again, before they gotta kill again.
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| Ya…
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| Ya…
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| The pain in my song is crazy.
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| The pain in my song is crazy.
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| Strugglin', still strugglin'. |