| This is a celebration of life
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| No matter what level
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| Able to rationalise is a blessing
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| Big boys relate
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| Bottles in the air
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| Closed caskets, memorial viewings
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| I’m mostly behind mics, got the audio cueing
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| Despite sending off kites, try to ignore the confusion
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| My sights is set on life, nothing’s more to be proven
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| Sound polite once it’s verbalised, rapped all nice
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| But for strikes, too internalise the facts’ll bite
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| Like serpent eyes, I can see through the blackest nights
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| I mastered gripes, plus my mathematics is right
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| Bullet wounds, but still alive is too much to consume
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| For a nigga that’s paralyzed, once a functional goon
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| Add all the tombs, 30 years can bring a nigga to tears
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| Neutralising, numbing his care, can you imagine you there?
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| I’m elsewhere, my chick pussy pretty shaped like a pear
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| A derierre’ll make a queer nigga sit there and stare
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| This is the year since the ball drop, been balling on top
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| Done came the Kobe death, COVID and cops
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| Cribs bought and sold, coupes been drove
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| Too many cooks over the stove, had to reduce the load
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| We old, no excuses but truth be told
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| Once a nigga become froze, his youth get stole
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| I’m in mode, even my celly got security code
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| Conspiracy now I’m looked at as lyrically chose
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| Where the hoes? |
| Gimme a Cliqo, make it a Rose
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| Niggas finito, just fold, I’m 'bout to explode
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| But peep though, when it’s dark I still envision the NARCs
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| Raiding a nigga crib from my days as a kid
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| Happy I slid, half the team still serving they bids
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| But dig, if anybody, nigga glad that I did
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| Never hid, I’m a street nigga speak what I live
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| Whatever bridge gotta cross, pop the cork and swig
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| And understand, it’s out of my hands if it’s part of the plan
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| 300 grand 'til the Rolls Royce land
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| Three decades, hitting the fourth
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| A fifth of Smirnoff pour for niggas caught in the cross
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| Lost in thought, my sons be my moral support
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| The homies with handguns, them niggas come with the fort
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| Avoiding court, but these clowns’ll make you force an assault
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| That’s why I’m either out of town or getting off in the loft
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| I’m from the cloth, being sane is my main resource
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| Pain is what explains why there’s no remorse
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| I’m on the course kitchen counter for laying the (?)
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| What’s worse than the wrong niggas wanna lounge around ya
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| Dodgin the system, most dissolving in prison
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| So many pass (?) families hardly miss 'em
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| Prepare, this is the year for y’all niggas to fear
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| And if you never look death in the eyes, then don’t stare
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| I’m here from expectations from exceptional pacing
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| Still punish, and peel 100s like I’m on vacation |