| Yeah, yeah, yeah
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| From the back porch, back then
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| When dreams of a stacked fortune
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| Black kid with dreams by any means to sees himself foldin' keys to a black
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| Porsche and
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| That american pie he just want a portion
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| Product of that environment that he was forced in
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| Changed course when its out of control
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| Feel it down in my soul
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| Fast forward and foresee that fork in the road
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| Listen
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| Make sure you on the road, foreign car whippin'
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| Its mind bendin'
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| Open your eyes, I’m bendin' the rules
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| Time’s tickin'
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| The time’s different
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| On a globe, where every soul tryna survive in it
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| That’s the, that’s the main concern
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| Whole hood celebrate when the tables turn, you see
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| Feels like I’m on the cusp
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| Great forever, forever’s not long enough its just
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| Back, back, back
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| Yeah
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| Wise man once said, «The grind can’t stop»
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| Till letters in your name get bigger like cap locks
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| Still can’t stall, so far from your last stop
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| Death to the yes-man, blind the mascots
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| Look past the moment to try to find your last opponent
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| Tryna find the answer
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| Before this life flashes past ya
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| Blink of an eye, go ghost like a phantom
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| I rather imagine the whole block poppin', corks, toasts, and glasses
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| More life, no ashes to ashes
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| Live life fast with no crashes
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| You can picture that with no caption
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| Try to see the vision no glasses
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| You can picture that with no cameras or flashes
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| You could just imagine
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| Still keep my hunger like fasting
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| Still keep it ghetto fab, like putting money in the mattress
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| And that’s just (what), point blank
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| No biting my tongue, damn he’s so frank
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| And your top 10, they don’t rank
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| They asked me to change some things and no thanks |