| A tall, handsome, chocolate syrup colored kid
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| In a fresh boxcut hairstyle
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| Quiet manner was more in tune with his, well-heeled patrons
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| Than with his hip-hopping friends
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| «Who hooked you up man? |
| Yo' momma?!»
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| I wrote a poem the other day
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| I hope you like it
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| Roses are red, and violets are blue
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| Sugar is sweet love, but not as sweet as you
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| Boogers are green, and doo-doo is brown
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| Life is uphill but, not when you get down
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| I said roses are red, and violets are blue
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| Sugar is sweet love, but not as sweet as you
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| Boogers are green, and doo-doo is brown
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| Life is uphill but, not when you get down
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| Sticks and stones, flesh and bones
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| +Organic Electricity+ chromosomes
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| I’m home alone, but not by choice
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| I pick up the phone and I hear a strange voice
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| Hocus pocus, boogedy boo
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| Abra-cadabra, what’s a nigga to do?
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| Back and forth, and open and closed
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| And if you can’t see through it then poke you some holes
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| It’s like glass and dirt, water and sand
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| Things tend to burn the hotter the pan
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| Left and right, and right and wrong
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| Wrong and guilty, convicted and hung
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| Young and old, and old and new
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| Knew and never knew and tellin the truth
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| It’s like black and blue, and battered and bruised
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| And if you get away from this one then, that’ll be news
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| I said
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| Jack and Jill, and +Jill+ and +Scott+
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| Scotch and soda, a twisted plot
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| Bums and cops, covers and quilts
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| Pillows and blankets, cottons and silks
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| Mind so heavy hope the bed don’t tilt
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| Cuts and welts, and screams for help
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| Eat and sleep, shit shower and shave
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| Work and play, cradle to the grave
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| It’s all for nothin, or nothin at all
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| It’s all for one, and one for all
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| You better look up at me like I’m ten feet tall
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| Cause you’re lookin down at me like I’m two feet small
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| Hopes and wishes, wishes and dreams
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| It’s ugly and dirty, I wish it was clean
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| Win or lose, smoke or booze
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| And if you get away from this one then, that’ll be news
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| I mean
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| Ready or not, sweaty and hot
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| Tired and hungry but haven’t forgot
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| Guns and shots, runs and drops
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| Or buried alive under tons of rocks
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| A beautiful day, a wonderful night
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| A suitable pasttime just rockin the mic
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| A day in the life, a life in a day
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| You know when they comin so you might get away
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| Space and time, nickels and dimes
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| Bass and rhyme that tickle your spine
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| A brand new mind, a fresh design
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| One of a kind, seek and you find
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| Homies and crews, weapons and tools
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| Lovers and haters and teachers and fools
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| Just try walkin one day in my socks and shoes
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| And if you get away from this one then, that’ll be news
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| It’s like |