| Yeah, come come now
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| Soul brother number two, I’m the one now
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| Sun up to sun down, still kickin' that shit
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| Put your gun down
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| I come in peace like a extraterrestrial being
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| Eat me a meteor and walk across the moon barefeet
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| But don’t nobody rhyme like this no more
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| Call me the 2010 Rakim
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| I got soul, there’s more in store
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| Feel like a CVS, open 24
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| Spent nights tryin' to overshadow my shadow
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| For niggas tryin' to block my light like a solar eclipse
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| I bring a knife to a fist fight and when I cut a record
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| So when I cut the cheese, shit you know what it is
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| Mr. Absoulutely the most incredible at this
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| So adjust your bass, your treble and then
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| Yo, turn me up some
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| Yo, turn me up some
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| Yo, turn me up some
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| Turn me up some, turn me up some
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| Finna break this blunt down and burn me up one
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| Then sip on this Remy 'til it turn me up some
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| For me it’s more difficult to be simple than it is to be complex
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| As a lot of apartments
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| You niggas comedy, I’m laughing at you probably
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| We are not the same, there’s no strand of monotony
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| Between you and I until we die
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| Revelations say you either fry or fly
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| And it’s hard to find God when you ain’t never seen Him
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| It’s pie in the sky and there’s bodies on the cement
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| And I know you lookin' at me like, «You don’t speak English»
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| I bring the heat like a phoenix, a son under Phoenix sun
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| And I’m rootin' for the Lakers when they play the Phoenix Suns
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| I ain’t really into sports, that’s just where I’m from
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| Long Term Two
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| And if it’s in your possession then follow the directions my dude
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| Come come now
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| Pac told me fuck the world, I’m 'bout to cum now
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| I’ve been a pro, but now I’m profound
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| Propane on posers, restraining from the doja
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| Imagine if I smoke, I probably come up with a «e
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| So heavy you’ll forget every album you heard from Hova
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| Or 2pacalypse I’m Hub City’s novelist
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| Come and get your scholarship, I’m taking kids to school
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| A pool full of spit, dive in, I’m 'bout to drool
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| You’ll drown trynna backstroke on concepts that I wrote
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| I was a black sheep, but now I’m just a goat
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| And I’m 'bout to elope, married to the game joe
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| This is hip hop at its finest, where’d you find this? |
| In a Ziploc
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| Til the wheels fall off, fuck a pit-stop or what not
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| Where my tear drop? |
| I murdered it
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| My pot-holes is turbulence
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| I’m in the sky wit it
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| When you listening to Kendrick, just
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| This for my niggas that really rap all night
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| No sleep, do it with your eyes closed
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| I can see your vision from Del-Amo
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| Poppa took the television, but left the radio
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| Ill niggas, wack niggas, what’s the ratio?
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| Is this shit degrading or inspirational?
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| I’ll have you know I must’ve wrote about a thousand rhymes, a thousand times
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| I give you my word
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| Cause I just gotta be heard
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| I just gotta be heard
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| I just gotta be heard
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| Said I gotta be, yes sir I gotta be
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| Heard, heard, heard, heard |