| Dude — yeah, yeah, chillin' in some shorts
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| Sippin' on a cold one, sittin' on the porch
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| Only chopsticks, I don’t ever use a fork
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| Go for it, little dork, don’t you know I’m that dude?
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| Yo, yo — born from a stork
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| Kung Pao chicken, you can pile on the pork
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| When I get bored, I just call up Scott Storch
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| House phone, no cord, of course I’m that dude
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| Cut my hair in two years, drink beer, get weird
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| Get clear advice from my friends, tell me get real
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| No deal — I be sippin' smoothies and shit
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| Gettin' stoned and then I go alone to movies and shit
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| Bolognaise, homemade, only play croquet
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| In a cloak and like old episodes of Soul Train
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| One with the OJs, Whole Foods for the groceries
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| OJ, loaves, cherries and Yoplait
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| No way Jose — Cuervo in a bear coat
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| Heirloom tomatoes, grow my very own
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| Bare-bone, dare you to out-stare a scarecrow
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| Blow whales air hole, hair like scared werewolf
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| Get down, sheets got a high thread count
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| Red gown gets drowned out by my med sound
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| Loud — Ted Talks on the iPad
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| Old search says «Bang Bros" — my bad
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| Good weed got me talkin' 'bout deities
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| Aphrodite, sucker for good lighting
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| And neat handwriting, sort of like calligraphy
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| Trick or treat at 30, dressed up as Jackie Tree
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| Dude…
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| Dude…
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| Niggas is clowns, I hand out styles, like…
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| I make 'em at home beneath my workshop lights
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| Hundreds of these, it’s nothin' to me
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| At home, over the stove, makin' these keys
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| Laughin' at these little niggas mimicking me
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| They slidin' down, razorblades landin' in alcohol rivers
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| I can’t get with 'em, nah, Spitta chillin'
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| And I still claim Jets at your ma’fuckin'…
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| With a batch of pot brownies in the oven and some hoes comin'
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| Same old shit, spendin', just the toilet bowl different
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| Bathroom’s bigger, bigger mirrors
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| Hoes seein' themselves in 'em and havin' twisted visions of us livin'
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| Coexistin', demolishing my pimpin'
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| None of that askin' where I’m goin', furthermore
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| When I’m comin' back, no whinin', no Taipei
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| I still pull a disappearing act — L
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| Never die, motherfucker, that’s what I say
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| Gettin' money out your bitches every goddamn day
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| Homie said he want a show, I want ten grand
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| I’m a need ten more when my plane land
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| Baby never met another nigga higher or hotter
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| Bitch, just hit the weed, don’t ask where I got it
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| In the presence of these international globetrotters
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| On the bus, ballin' out in different times with my partners
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| Dude…
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| Dude…
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| Dude…
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| Dude… |