| You need something real
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| Baby that ain’t never gonna last
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| That’s just fool’s gold
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| That ain’t treasure that’s trash
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| And I, I know it look nice, I know it look nice
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| But that’s a rip off, for that price?
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| That ain’t treasure that’s trash
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| Cause it ain’t never gon' last
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| You spend your time tryna get your claws on
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| That stuff when we get to heaven we gon' walk on
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| A problem baby our heart is never satisfied
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| Clothed to righteousness and still have a naked eye
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| I struggle my heart always wants more
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| The only Christ they see on me is Christian Dior
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| I was a slave to fashion, see my chains
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| Ralph Lauren and Ed Hardy were my masters' names
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| Washed by the Father stay clean
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| I can still be tight without the skinny jeans
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| I got eternal swag that’s the new fashion
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| I see clearly now through my Sunglasses
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| I know some sisters who stay shining
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| You can ask pearl or ask diamond
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| The real treasure I’m filled with
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| I know it’s deep I hope you can dig this
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| You need something real
|
| Baby that ain’t never gonna last
|
| That’s just fool’s gold
|
| That ain’t treasure that’s trash
|
| And I, I know it look nice, I know it look nice
|
| But that’s a rip off, for that price?
|
| That ain’t treasure that’s trash
|
| Cause it ain’t never gon' last
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| You say it’s Louis on my two feet
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| It’s ooh ee when I’m through the streets
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| The cuties say «cute sneaks» and them shoes sweet when the dudes speak
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| Nothing under a hundred stutting on 'em mean nothing
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| I’m frontin' but oh they love it
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| I’m ahead of my class and passing
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| Got a passion for flashing satisfactions and fashion
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| Yeah homie I’m a tag popper
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| Makin' you sick call a swag doctor
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| These threads is concealing my flaws
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| For I am fulfilled by applause
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| I guess pride is my idol now
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| What I’mma do when these items go out of style?
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| This ain’t treasure it’s trash
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| I know this pleasure won’t last
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| I need that real
|
| You need something real
|
| Baby that ain’t never gonna last
|
| That’s just fool’s gold
|
| That ain’t treasure that’s trash
|
| And I, I know it look nice, I know it look nice
|
| But that’s a rip off, for that price?
|
| That ain’t treasure that’s trash
|
| Cause it ain’t never gon' last
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| I can’t front I like nice kicks and new clothes
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| I like givin' old school records new flows
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| I like money that I make when I do shows
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| But when I abuse those they fool’s gold
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| Now now let me tell you what I mean
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| I could make something good a God thing
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| Turn all my wants into needs
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| Holdin' on to perishing means as supreme
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| It seems, people want pleasure for a season
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| Instead of seeking the God who’s eternally pleasing
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| For some reason I thought that I wouldn’t be lonely
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| If I had women all on me
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| I couldn’t buy joy with the paper
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| My good deeds never bought God’s favor
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| Find my currency faulty
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| I’m so glad that the Christ came and bought me
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| Livin' that
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| You need something real
|
| Baby that ain’t never gonna last
|
| That’s just fool’s gold
|
| That ain’t treasure that’s trash
|
| And I, I know it look nice, I know it look nice
|
| But that’s a rip off, for that price?
|
| That ain’t treasure that’s trash
|
| Cause it ain’t never gon' last |