| The artist pays the price so you won’t have to pay
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| (Around the world in a day)
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| If only we would listen to what they have to say
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| We all go through changes to get to where we’re going
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| We have to learn a life of sacrifice (yeah, yeah, yeah) To keep on growin'
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| Yeah
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| Life is for learnin
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| Remember this
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| And learn from life
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| Think about the players in the past who died in sacrifice
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| Some died in wars for a country that oppressed them
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| Some died preachin—prayin for God to bless them
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| I am one of the blessed, born to bring the world poetry
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| Hip-hop, musically—expressing what’s inside of me
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| Some find me entertaining. |
| Some find me marketable
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| A potential Black millionaire so that makes me targetable
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| Low-lifes and fork-tongued devils get easy access
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| Flashin me faces, making empty promises
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| Soggy niggas sign contracts and make deals
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| Rappin bout who they killed
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| Talking bout they keeping it real
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| Hardcore homicidal, kingpins of the century
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| Need to quit rappin and leave this shit to the real MC’s
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| But ain’t no chance
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| Opposing forces got the upper hand
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| Do as they command to keep them from suffering
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| See, I don’t know everything
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| But my opinion I will voice
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| As long as I can choose
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| I’ll choose the right or the wrong choice
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| Addicted to Hip-hop beats
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| And hoes that can’t stay out the streets
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| Tryin to make a dollar
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| Without a nigga havin to rob and cheat
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| Got me hustling
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| Twenty-four-seven
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| Three-sixty-five
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| Coast to coast
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| Mic-checkin
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| Keeping the party alive
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| Engrave my name in the minds of those
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| Who bob to this
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| Slang and rob to this
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| Jack and rob to this
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| Herbs and meditation made a pill when I put it down
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| But individual perception will change each phrase around
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| Different towns
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| Ain’t none of this shit like Orange Mound
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| Players unified, digging on my mellow sound
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| Exec’s
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| Get big ole fat checks
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| For makin deals
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| While soldiers like me in the fields
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| Down there getting killed
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| When this is all over
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| If I could do it again, I do it twice
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| Before and after me, the artist will always pay the price
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| The industry
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| Full of broke niggas tryin to make a comeback
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| Rappin bout that bullshit
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| Over them weak-ass tracks
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| Judging me
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| When around the globe, ain’t nothing the same
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| Think how the world would be if none of this hit had ever changed
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| Ain’t like it used to be when hip-hop belonged to you and me
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| Shit got sugar coated—modified for tv
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| Niggas like me, don’t give a fuck about commercial air time
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| Forced underground, ain’t nothing commercial bout my rhymes
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| Rather be broke or slinging dope than hold my tongue back
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| Niggas who put on acts get they ass beat up and jacked
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| I’m not a killer—just a poet tryin to survive, nigga
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| Given the choice to ride or die, I chose to ride, nigga
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| I’m paying the price for all the real MC’s after me
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| Be a artist, not a slave for the industry
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| I’m paying the price for all the real MC’s after me
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| Be a artist, not a slave for the industry
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| Full of them trees
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| On them Hennesy’s
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| Fuckin with them G’s |