| Wolves in disguise
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| How you supposed to see 'em with the wool in your eyes?
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| Sheep to the radio, we fooled and surprised
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| They ain’t never loved me, it’s bullshit and lies
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| Won’t you recognize
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| All the real gold gets stole by design
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| That shit in your mind
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| Off a nigga head for these nickels and these dimes
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| Niggas ticking with the times
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| Getting crippled up by the crimes
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| Niggas say he over weight
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| I heard your plug was dry
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| I heard your plug was dry and I think I got what you need
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| I might be your guy
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| No this ain’t no weed, different type of high
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| Got it for the free
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| Never needed no dollars to prove worth
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| Or a slap in the face, before I could move first
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| On a nigga these days you lose worse when you slipping
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| We came the truth, purged in the hyssop of love
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| These niggas talk bread, but they missing the blood
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| Like they crippin' much like Krillin how they disk could destruct
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| Rebuild in the ashes, cashes
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| With the training underwater with the passion, traction
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| Started gaining some muscle
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| Lemme tell you it actually started raining at shows
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| Wasn’t moving no Os
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| But it’s a symbol of hustle
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| Spreading love is an intricate puzzle
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| And hate’ll have you strung out and addicted to struggle
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| I’m on this love as of late
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| Smoking bud
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| Praying to the one above
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| I been thinking 'bout his love as of late
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| Like a drug, you won’t ever get enough
|
| I’ve been feeling like the plug as of late
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| And I ain’t saying it’s the same kind of high
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| If you trying to feel good
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| And you looking for a pusher that’ll push
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| That feeling then I’m that guy
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| I heard your plug was dry
|
| I heard your plug was dry and I think I got what you need
|
| I might be your guy
|
| No this ain’t no weed, different type of high
|
| And this flow is clearly inspired by the love below the TV
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| Sade coming out my mama speaker box
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| I know she see me vibin'
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| We would speak about the way
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| The world would try to keep me silent
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| Keep me vibing
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| Claim to keep the peace
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| And then assassinate the peace makers
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| We puff peace pipes
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| And anticipate
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| No you can’t get security blankets where we from
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| Niggas have tasted money pussy and prison
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| But never had freedom a day in his life
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| I think that I remember
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| Probably tastes like kindred
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| If it’s sweet I’m in my stride
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| It’s mid December in these fucking walking boots
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| In a, John Hancock
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| Cause everything the South Side constitutes is lateral
|
| But we in a different longitude
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| So we never arrive at the same point
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| Trees stay in the truth
|
| So I ain’t never smoked the same joint twice
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| I’m on this love as of late
|
| Smoking bud
|
| Praying to the one above
|
| I been thinking 'bout this love as of late
|
| Like a drug, you won’t ever get enough
|
| I’ve been feeling like a plug as of late
|
| And I ain’t saying it’s the same kind of high
|
| If you trying to feel good
|
| And you need a pusher that’ll push
|
| That feeling then I’m that guy |