| So whaddya do when the game starts changin fast?
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| Arrange for your ass to find a way to stay in the class
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| Sales declinin, downloads are risin
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| Newbies shinin, and we stuck askin where did ya find him
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| He ain’t a diamond but he really got some incredible timin
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| So sign him and put him out, he’s a star that’s shinin
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| Give him a ringtone deal, a commercial with T-Mobile
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| Man he can global, depends if he acts noble
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| Take his photo and put him on the cover of Vibe
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| Rolling Stone and The Source mag both gave him a five
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| Now he thinks that his shit don’t stink
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| And every drink’s from a bottle of Crist', and he’s flyin on mink
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| He’s, young and dumb and don’t sync with the drum
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| But all the little girls love him cause he’s number one
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| On top of the Billboards winnin Grammy Awards
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| Goin to red carpet events with the media whores
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| Lights camera flash you’re on!
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| Uh-uh uh, uh, uh-uh on!
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| Time’s up, six minutes you’re gone!
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| Tell me where’d they go, tell me where’d they go
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| Tell me — where did they go, where did they go
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| Tell me — where did they go, where did they go
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| Tell me — where did they go, where did they go
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| There’s a new kid in town climbin the charts but still
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| He’s alright, but he’s not real
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| Regardless they want a cameo for Freddie Puccini
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| He’s a freezer, he’s leanin back like the Tower of Pisa
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| He’s on top of the mountain, ain’t got no one around him
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| To tell him the truth, let him know, people are clownin
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| They found him and wound him up like a toy for the children
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| He don’t believe it, he’s only worried about his millions
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| Collectin his cake, coppin whips, buyin estates
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| Lyin in wait, the birds flock to get that taste
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| Beautiful bait for the new kid but don’t be stupid
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| Cause they don’t love you they love your money as soon as you lose it
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| They skate with the very next dude releasin an album
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| By any means necessary thought I’d quote it from Malcolm
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| The outcome is all the same and that part don’t change
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| Chalk it up to the game cause it’s a part of the fame
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| These rappers just, don’t, get it
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| Better wake the fuck up, but you think you got it figured out
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| Diggin a hole so deep you can’t get up out
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| You don’t give a shit about, if they say you losin touch
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| Just another one hit wonder motherfucker screwin up
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| But not me, not Young De
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| I let the, veterans guide me so nothin surprise me
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| All them moves you be makin 'em blindly
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| But the big homies B-Real and Young Gotti got me
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| So you can get the cover of the XXL now
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| But when your boy hit, all that shit gettin shut down
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| Nursery rhyme lines goin back to the kids
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| And that bitch that you wit comin back to my crib
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| These execs got you gassed, put 10 on 2
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| Ask me who gon' last, won’t bet on you
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| But you could, bet on me cause your boy come through |