| Stuck in my spirit, trying to find endearment
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| Nowhere near it, but I know I’m here to feel it
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| So I never let fear get in as a clear threat
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| I just make my music and use it to heal breath
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| Breath is the spirit, you should try breathing
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| I do mine with (puff) and not just on the weekends
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| Sometimes I feel like I’m going in the deep end
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| Then I’m deep in, no need to depend
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| Cause even the pen descends for a second
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| Teaching me to lead and not to be second
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| To my own low thoughts leveling
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| I just want to meddle in
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| Not one for being the most medaling kid
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| I’m sick of it and thinking big
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| Trying to keep the game from getting rigged
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| Cause my eyesight of the real is thinner than a twig
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| Puts the scent in the wig, all aligned with energy
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| From a pyramid in the grid
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| I hear free-spirited is always best
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| So I invest in rest and focus on breath
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| Cause breath is the spirit
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| Cause without it there’s death
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| Then the spirit just exits
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| And moves on separate
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| A cherisher of breath
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| Ever since an asthma attack in the past
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| Had me a gasping mess
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| Felt like I was addressing death
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| But fortunately I wasn’t next
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| And they told me hold it, inhale it, depress
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| I did it excessive and got high off that
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| Just some nerds third grade just (puff) it in the back
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| After recess actually, in gym too if I had to breathe then I’d leave
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| Dizzy in the hall trippy Albuterol all in me
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| Still no sips can befriend me
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| To get their Henny, I still ain’t have it in me
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| Not an enemy but I’ll leave its entry, cup empty
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| But they think I’m drunk off of plenty
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| 80 A’s, D placed in this tin
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| And a HD screen still plays me big
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| The tips are believing like Biebs was singing |