| Charlie Brown, Charlie Brown
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| Oh no, we’re doomed!
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| I raise the bars for stars and quasars
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| That’s the reason why I ain’t on your radars
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| You’d have to be like NASA to see this high
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| Plus you’d have to be nastier to be this guy
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| To be this fly, you need a hoverboard and some jetpacks
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| The grand architect of the universe to bless tracks
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| You’d have to walk a mile in my shoes
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| To decipher all the complex styles that I use
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| Cause my brain’s all crazy from the Ritalin they gave me
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| And even as a baby loud music didn’t faze me
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| And even as a teenager rappers couldn’t fade me
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| I never gave a fuck about the hoes who betrayed me
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| And traded me for somebody else, well they can have 'em
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| Thanks for the rides to school and orgasms
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| Thanks for the cellphone bills that got paid
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| Been a pimp day one since I first got laid
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| Took rap more serious about the ninth grade
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| When I first heard the first LP that Nas made
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| Nowadays music sound so weird
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| Everybody clothes are tight, everybody got a beard
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| It’s like the end of days that every rap fan feared
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| 'Til the savior appeared on the stage and they cheered
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| I daydreamed while I sat on the bus
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| Fantasizin' of these whack ass rappers I crush
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| One day I’ll make my whole neighborhood hot
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| On the rooftop like I’m Snoopy or Woodstock
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| A Tribe Called Quest in the «Check the Rhime» video
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| There once was a dream but I did it though
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| Nah, I never gave a fuck what the rest did
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| Now I’m on tour makin' sure I’m well-rested
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| Thanks to my fam and the fans who invested
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| And always had my back when my faith got tested
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| Body in the trunk, gas tank low
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| Heading 'round and not a place to go
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| When the chips are down, would you hold me down
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| When I’m feeling like Charlie Brown
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| Money running out, bills so high
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| Just wanna float up to the sky
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| When the chips are down, would you hold me down
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| When I’m feeling like Charlie Brown
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| Money running out, bills so high
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| Yo, I be feelin' like Charlie Brown
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| Or rather Pig Pen, from all that dirt I been in
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| The 'burbs and the blocks, the street curbs and the kitchen cookers
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| Sold nightmares, these dreams boy I got hookups
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| Back in the day was just a week ago
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| The memories gone, it’s probably from that reefer smoke
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| A nigga play Aretha when I’m needin' hope
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| To see the folks later, they try to kick it like FIFA pro’s
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| I lecture my sons about grades and chips
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| 'Cause any drama is known to gray the wigs
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| I do what my favorites did and still do
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| So many try to make it, shit I’m just trying to make it through
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| So many really fake it, man I’m just gonna keep it true
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| Too many people hatin', gonna see how the evils do
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| I’ve seen a gang a rain clouds out in Cali skies
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| And felt turbulence without havin' a plane ride
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| Y’all killin' my high, killin' my vibe
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| Them drugs be… killin' me inside, kill me and die
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| I was never known for killin' with kind, I’ll be killin' a blind
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| Script murder, like I’m loadin' the nine while I rhyme
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| Please excuse me, uh, the way I shouted was an uzi
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| I’m plottin' a movie, pop extras in the jacuzzi
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| Big dreams still livin' loosely, loose leafs, no loosies
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| The same bitches that was actin' bougie now they groupin' groupies
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| That wanna do me, do me
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| I spark a doobie that you call a doozie
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| Then bang that groupie in a fuckin' hooptie
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| Tell 'em I’m ballin' but right now, I’m doing iiiit
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| The type of dude you don’t wanna have no kiiiids
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| The boy is just ridiculouuus
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| Look, clownin', that’s a state of mind I live in
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| All bad when I pop the trunk, homie get in
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| No!
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| Body in the trunk, gas tank low
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| Heading 'round and not a place to go
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| When the chips are down, would you hold me down
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| When I’m feeling like Charlie Brown
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| Money running out, bills so high
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| Just wanna float up to the sky
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| When the chips are down, would you hold me down
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| When I’m feeling like Charlie Brown
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| «Keep the change ya filthy animal!» |