| I’m feelin' lost out in London
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| Feelin' Lost all the sudden
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| Disappear into nothin'
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| He’s a leech you can’t trust him
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| I get the Pack out in Paris
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| Catch a flight then I just dip
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| Dirty streets and a broke wrist
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| So I iced out both wrists
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| Baby told you I was feelin' lost in London
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| Told you that he loves you but I know he doesn’t
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| And I’m dressing like Westwood was my cousin
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| Please don’t ask me no you cannot touch it
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| Got no service so baby please stop callin'
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| Foreign money I can’t fit it in my wallet
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| Hit the mall then I spend a couple thousand
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| So many rings that my fingers feelin' crowded
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| When I’m out on Dover street don’t talk to me
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| Alexander McQueen so they notice me
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| Catch me in Tate Modern rollin' up my weed
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| Copped a 17 and I can’t control this thing
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| I’m feelin' lost out in London
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| Feelin' Lost all the sudden
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| Disappear into nothin'
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| He’s a leech you can’t trust him
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| I get the Pack out in Paris
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| Catch a flight then I just dip
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| Dirty streets and a broke wrist
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| So I iced out both wrists
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| Catch a flight out in London
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| I been gettin' money I don’t need friends
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| Yea I just got up in my Benz
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| I’m in Chicago or in London
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| It’s Adamn I got big bands
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| Bitch I ain’t got no fuckin' big plans
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| Imma be there when the plane lands
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| You can’t catch this jet when the jet land
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| I don’t got no jet lag
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| I just got gold pick up a bag
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| And foreign shoes
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| And I got the foreign Christian Lous
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| If ya hatin' on me pick n' choose
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| If ya hatin' on me shame on you
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| I got lots of designer I can pick n' choose
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| Go inside my closet, it’s a stu'
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| Out here makin' money so my pockets blue
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| I am Adamn |