| To everyone I loved
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| To everyone I loved, to everyone who fronted me drugs
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| To everyone who ain’t get in the club
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| To everyone who went half on the dub
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| To everyone in the back of the pub with pints in they mug
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| To Bugs for ducking Elmer Fudd, that’s a thug
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| On the run from Beelzebub, tell flex I bought the lugs
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| Come on duke, let a brother get a rug
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| Hey yo, cards spin often so proceed with caution
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| Don’t get lost in the sauce and conflict, get nauseous
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| And spit wit, an iron tongue don’t miss this
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| Flow so nasty it’s ridiculous, cripple lids when I chop lines
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| You notice it, like napalm explosions are soaked in timbs
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| Rolling with the circle in sights, wrecked mics, I’ll step right
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| Get bounced like the checks I write, these niggas be like
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| Look at my life, alcoholic like Holden Caulfield but I’m sober tonight
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| Rather sober for the moment ‘cause I’ve chosen to hold off
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| Home smoking this blunt until 5−0 rolls off dog
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| I’m just trying to get high in peace, then chill, then peace
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| On the livest streets, Illadelph where I’m keeping the beat
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| Synced to the rhythm of the water rippling over stones and Cobbs Creak
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| That’s over your head on top of the nest
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| Lyrical wave caps, rusty bear traps
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| Half step, he prone to snap
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| Spitamat— our wings don’t flap
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| Players going for gats wanna be running back
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| Buckle that chin strap, Billy ‘bout that attitude mega black
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| On the edge of Magellan maps
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| I’mm change the game like aluminum bats
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| Gear head the pack even spitting old raps
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| Like that’s the future, hop in whips with designated shooters
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| Sing crazy shells, King Cooper kamasutra tutor
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| Show you how the work that cooter, you go girl
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| It’s a wonderful world, all things considered
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| I’ll drink to that in a nuclear winter, shiver me timbers
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| Original pirate material, bodies on my mic, scratch the serial
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| I got reasonable doubt that you illmatic or ready to die tragic
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| But this only built for southernplayalistic strictly for my nigga
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| Shit, back in the woods, spliff lifted, back of the hood
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| Holding two piece for a biscuit, kiwi strawberry mystic
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| Unknown soldiers poured liquid and grip that two-fisted |