| Brenda, Brenda
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| You can call him with your agendas
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| He the father, send your sins up
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| To the altar, Heaven rinse us
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| Praise the Lord
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| They just had to let the beast go
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| Never liked it peaceful, should’ve never gave you people
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| Access to key codes, now the spirit’s in the buildin'
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| Story that the priest told, or how the heat throw
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| With Timbs and a peacoat, I know what the streets know
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| Who you think I speak for? |
| Know this got that juice
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| Nasty like Tampico, crafty with the lingo
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| Flashy with the jewels, but never touched the fuel
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| 'Cause I don’t think you do well, find me on Pulaski
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| Catfish at Duwell’s, or on my way to Cali
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| Like James with the two Ls, that’s it in a nutshell
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| Nothin' sweet, bluebell, she just recess
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| Didn’t you hear the school bell? |
| Fresh, yeah, new smell
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| Mindstate do tell, high stakes and screwface
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| Stay open like I’m two twelves, Beethoven with the papyrus
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| Energy, catalyst, rattlin' your clavicle
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| Count me in abacus, calamities, upwards
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| Over average buzzwords, the expletive expert without usin' cuss words
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| Brenda, Brenda (Yeah, 'State)
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| You can call him with your agendas
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| He the father, send your sins up
|
| To the altar, Heaven rinse us
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| Praise the Lord
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| Spirit got my diction open, pit of fire, sea of smoke and
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| Pullin' from a place that’s broken, glued together, that’s the notion
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| I will only spew the truth, be the light, teach the youth
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| The basement days are over now, far from when I claimed uncouth
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| Those who really know me caught that line like it’s an L-train
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| Never did it for fame, mostly use my right brain
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| Spiritually in balance like I practice Kundalini
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| Close to goin' veggie, make my pasta with zucchini
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| I live my life Jamaica, meanin' ev’ry ting gets irie
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| Searchin' for the soul? |
| Then I recommend you try me
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| Abstract is the mind state, and my state will continue
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| Pushin' culture forward with this music, true essentials
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| Who He? |
| Where He sent you? |
| God don’t make mistakes here
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| Baptize you in lyrics, y’all gon' stay awake here
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| I know what’s at stake here, we ain’t talkin' red meat
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| I’m talkin' evolution, we evolve you from the deadbeat
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| Brenda, Brenda
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| You can call him with your agendas
|
| He the father, send your sins up
|
| To the altar, Heaven rinse us
|
| Praise the Lord |