| Where am I?
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| Where… am I?
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| (Verse 1: Acie High)
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| I. Pivot around the galaxy of the colonel
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| Hoping to get accepted, doing my best impression of normal
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| An alien from Total Recall battling a world of Arnolds
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| And I won’t retire till the ?? |
| box and attire is formal
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| My color is calmer, but the world is white
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| Are you complex and you all see what the world is like?
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| Hatred sickens my stomach so I tend to hurl at night
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| Then I’m in love with a woman, there’s a lot of girls I like
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| Give me the beats, I sing to you as a referral to right
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| The world’s light, a round jewel, I’m dropping girls and?? |
| bikes?
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| I’m not sinful, but I go to war on instrumentals
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| I got my pen out, aiming it at ten hoes, some style like the Bento
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| Or I’ll take the pencil, and hold it to the tempo
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| Or bob and see and rock the guys who think this shit is simple
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| Place the ball by the stars, now play nimbo
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| You don’t know what you in for, Price change the tempo
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| (Verse 2: Priceless)
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| All I need is four bars, long enough to go hard
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| I’m strong enough to bogard, but still I choose to flow hard |
| Bold enough to flaunt chain gang and live with no guards
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| Flowing like a sonar, glowing like a lone star
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| And fuck all the other kings, I’m my own czar
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| Can idolize Tony, cause my face has its own scar
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| Thought that I had gone far, that was cause I had went left
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| The louder I spoke, I swore the more people went deaf
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| So now I’m back in the habit of kicking, not kissing asses
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| Got a plaque for spitting, splitting, swishing, sipping molasses
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| And a knack for handling beer, not bitchassness
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| So if you are a bitch ass nigga, pass us
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| (Verse 3: Acie High)
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| HEY!
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| My composition leaves competition in a slump position
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| I’m atomic, actor bitches call it well precision
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| I overcome submission
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| Going round for round will be like Chris Brown slapping Rihanna down
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| A dumb decision
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| I come from tradition
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| The typical crack dad, and where’s momma at, dont forget to add the drug
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| provision
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| From grandma to Aunt ??, forced to run from nutrition
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| So now my appetite is like blacks stumped in prison, all gone
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| (Verse 4: Priceless) |
| On flowing, I deserve praise
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| God all done reversed all of my word praise
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| My wordplay is like resurrected the 3rd day
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| Church serving niggas like Larry Bird used to serve J
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| From the corner stripe, like Nas, when he served Jay
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| On the corner like, the common nigga who serves 'Ye
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| Truly poetic and prophetic
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| «Sold my soul to others» sounds synthetic and pathetic
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| See I use my adjectives to get my objectives
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| To my potential turns residuals, that’s kinetic
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| (Verse 5: Acie High)
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| Yeah, Aye
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| Somebody call a medic, my body, your work’s embedded
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| Underneath, but let it creeps, that are beneath raw genetics
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| I’m alive, but they try to dead it
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| They try to shoot me out the sky, but they don’t regret it
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| Criticism is pointless, they say you can’t edit
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| She wants some pictures with my strippers, they can shake the credits
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| I’m super unleaded when I’m filling up my spaceship on you hoes
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| A tortoise creeping slow, what are you hares speeding for?
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| Take your time, why don’t you live in a rapping life for?
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| Cuz you don’t really know how far that rabbit hole goes |
| Try pacing yourself and tracing your steps
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| What in my sense, silly rabbit can’t have rape with themselves
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| It’s a perverted world, vulgar out of their mind
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| Do I become the tech of the sketcher, composite to find
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| Dudes that only see chicks if they got a behind
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| Is Jimmy Hatsfield with lil' Kim a positive sign?
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| Or do we neuter into the boys and girls to promote image
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| Or do we poison the world and put dope in it
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| If I say fuck you, would you say my mouth needs soap in it?
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| Well I save the packs of bubblegum with the joke in it
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| (Verse 6: Priceless)
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| Chewing with a market cane, but no coke’s in it
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| Its become my targeted name, to provoke critics
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| Cause I expose gimmicks, quote lyrics so vintage
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| It makes my foes grimace, cause my flow’s so ??
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| Like the Beatles, but not the one’s hoped upon
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| Like the Beatles, the one’s who sold the most records
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| It’s about to be a smorgasbord through your local ward
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| Cause there’s a mogul scorn, breathing through my vocal cords
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| It’s about to be a smorgasbord through your local ward |
| Cause there’s a mogul scorn, breathing through my vocal cords
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| (Outro: Acie High & Priceless)
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| Breathing through my vocal cords (x7)
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| Where am I?
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| Where… am I? |