| There I go fallin' to me knees right now
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| Tryna get it back on my feet right now
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| Choppin' up the weight I don’t need
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| Maybe I could sell it to a fiend, right now
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| Ay, what’chu need?
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| An ounce, a quarter, a P
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| I would sell you faith but you niggas don’t believe
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| Lord, forgive them for they do not know what they do
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| But God if you’re listening
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| Yes, Lawd
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| I could still reach you
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| Ten P’s in the rental truck
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| Trimmin' flowers in the Marriott with little cuz
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| Send 'em off to Arizona, let 'em build a buzz
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| Then get it back for triple the profit, help 'em split it up
|
| Ten years, been a minute, I was somewhere between givin' up and doin' a sentence
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| God, if you existin', help my momma get acquitted
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| If they plottin', then help me see it before they get the drop on me
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| Probably coulda been a doctor, I’m fond of optometry
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| Vision was like Martin Luther on the mountain peak
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| Valley lows, I left home for more salary
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| Smuggled O’s across border patrol, casually
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| Took notes and took control of it manually
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| Hand to hand 'til it’s white sands in the canopy
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| Now follow me
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| I’m too old to act childishly
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| But every now and then I park the Beamer in the gallery
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| Show off the paint for spectators and the faculty
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| Same ol' niggas that said they proud of me
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| Same ol' niggas that probably doubted me
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| Who gon' work it out for me?
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| There I go fallin' to me knees right now
|
| Tryna get it back on my feet right now
|
| Choppin' up the weight I don’t need
|
| Maybe I could sell it to a fiend, right now
|
| Ay, what’chu need?
|
| An ounce, a quarter, a P
|
| I would sell you faith but you niggas don’t believe |