| From the microphone
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| I get loose
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| But they ain’t know that Boochie said
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| I had sunroof
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| Not on my coupe yo
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| I’m talking George Jefferson
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| My shit is thinning
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| Diarrhea of my hairline
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| My barber give me mad effort Fam
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| Imaginary lines like the youngest child of mine
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| And I’m am from the durag era
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| Rocking 360 waves
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| Chicks used to say
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| I look like Nas with a fade
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| Back in my younger days
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| I used to hit Kunyri Kutz
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| Catch Rome and sit under blades
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| Cause I was in the Hunger Games
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| Fresh Cuts will get you laid
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| Clean like listerine
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| Had them brods
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| Chasing sausage hard
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| Jimmy Dean
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| The kids call me sir
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| They don’t even know I rap
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| Cause I’m in fresh Kicks
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| A white tee and a matching cap
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| It’s a midlife crisis
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| That I still get a cut
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| Is it my hair or my youth that I can’t give up?
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| We used to play out in the rain
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| Your mom was scolding us
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| She said that we were bad (she said that we were bad)
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| I thought I’d rather go alone
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| Who once till I was gone
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| Oh girl you look so sad
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| Early in the morning
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| And when I see my face
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| I shampoo my beard
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| And notice a couple grays
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| Is the fast life catching me
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| Or am I getting old
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| Sometimes I feel like my flesh
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| Is now speaking to my soul
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| I understand my purpose
|
| And as long as the earth twist
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| I’m here to tell the truth
|
| Until I’m underneath the surface
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| On whatever medium
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| The antithesis of skinny jeans and shirts that’s smedium
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| Awon bout as real as they come
|
| Can’t even shop they blogger hog
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| They on some hype shit
|
| The masses touch it
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| The streets don’t trust it
|
| That’s some life shit
|
| I’m on to bigger things
|
| Dot com is stressing me
|
| The industry is full
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| Of lames on coke and ecstasy
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| Learned my lessons
|
| Never front
|
| Vaporize I’m done with blunts
|
| Even the sneaker game is weak
|
| I ain’t cop nothing in months
|
| It’s a midlife crisis
|
| That I still get a cut
|
| Is it my hair
|
| Or my youth
|
| That I can’t give up |