| Yeah, I know you can relate to this shit right here
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| Feelin like you got a lot of weight
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| Sometimes you wanna bomb never hesitate, bomb first
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| Hold ya head up yo, get up yo
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| Got all these stressed out niggas with firearms
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| Prepare, get ready they about to bomb
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| First one hit usually an innocent civillian
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| Shot by the elevator dead up in the building
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| I’m illin' of the chill I got
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| Through my spine last night when I heard the shot
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| Took flight, cos I know that the Gods is right
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| Telling me you gonna make it when there’s hard in life
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| And the stripes that you gain through the streets is pain
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| No matter how many motherfuckers is slain
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| Hold your head son, maintain
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| Fuck getting the tumour in your brain
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| Mutherfuck the rumour that you on came (?)
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| Simple and plain, like piece of the pie
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| It’s the hustle to get yours, Nigga I can’t lie
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| I’m addicted to the high life, the wild life
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| Make the stress go by easy, when the bomb right
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| The weight of the world is on my shoulder
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| But, everyday I wake I find myself I’m getting bolder
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| As I annihilate, plus dominate
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| Thinking of ways to rise up, like a republican prominent
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| In the bomb state of thinking
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| Sometimes, life is like quicksand, if not watching your step
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| You end up sinkin
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| So pay close attention, don’t be blinkin'
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| Cos you might miss the entire point of the words that we speakin'
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| Holding the weight of the world (bomb first)
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| Holdin the weight on my shoulder (booya!)
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| The weight o' the world’s on my shoulder
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| I’m never gettin younger, only gettin older
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| As I, walk the streets with stress
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| Hold my head, cos the more I finesse
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| Tap the plate on my bullet proof vest, YES!
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| I’m strapped in tight
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| Cos I feel like some shit gonna happen tonight
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| I been eyein' a lot of niggas, closin' up
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| Eye on my jewellery, they frozen up (rock rock rock rock)
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| Wanna stick me why? |
| How come?
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| Jealous cos my shit is sophis, I don’t fuck wit' none of them
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| Commercial rap get the Originno gunn clapp
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| Believe me, stress on my brain, roll a sack of that
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| Shit that’d make the devil dissolve
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| Holdin the world spinning on my shoulders wit' no prob
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| 5 o' cock on the dot
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| I, I’m up performing callisthenics
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| While the muslims are making salot (?)
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| And the Devil plots
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| The pressures of life got me rock
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| Plus my ambitions fired up, I just can’t stop
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| Been singing broke too long, time for a new song
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| Rest in peace to 2strong (?), cos reddaman is still new born
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| The world’s been warned
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| You get tooken out like a pawn in this game
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| Or get caught flashin' and flossin' at fame
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| But, trials and tribulations force me, to claim what’s mine
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| Plus blow mine, (mine!) meaning!
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| What I work and struggle hard for
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| To the end of my existence, yes I’ll die for
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| The rules and regulations, all God’s laws
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| Laying it down, under the ground
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| Until the surface hardcore
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| Pushin' to become a rich man once poor
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| Tell you to your face, you ain’t ready for the war
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| (rock rock rock rock) |