| There we go, there we go
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| I think we’re live again
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| Yeah
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| Check it
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| All alone, unplug my phone
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| Back in the zone, been home but been gone
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| Prioritizing life in case I do not live long
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| And finally found some time to sit down and pen this song
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| Might as well try to tell you how I feel when I feel
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| And not just when it’s time to pay some bills, life is real
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| You can miss it everyday, trying to get a little pay
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| Fill the page with some change
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| Try to feel a little change on my mind
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| I be thinking about the rain but
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| Sunshine shines everyday but hey
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| What can I say?
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| This is sunny California where the phoneys run up on you
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| Cause they want you to be just like them
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| I’m on the corner 'bout to get a swisher from the liquor store
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| Twist the dro, sit at home, pen a song
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| Call a chick, get some dome
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| Play my shit, when I roll
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| Cause nobody knows my mental like me
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| Open my window let you people get a peep, peep
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| My life is simple, yo they think the shit is deep. |
| Sheep
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| Be sleeping on me cause I finally got some sheets. |
| Please
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| That’s for wifey not just hoes that want to ride me
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| Cause they like me when I’m riding the beat
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| «To each his own», niggas say. |
| They gripping chromes
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| Splitting domes in they song, when
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| I just feel I’m pennin' a poem
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| Peace
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| I can’t believe they think it’s (Vanity)
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| Even my peeps say it’s (Vanity)
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| (They call it Vanity)
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| Just because I’d rather eat in peace
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| My life’s been a bitch like this chick named (Vanity)
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| (They call it Vanity)
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| Sitting alone on my own dick is (Vanity)
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| And when I’m gone, «home sick» is just (Vanity)
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| Yeah
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| All alone
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| Back in the zone. |
| No, wifey at home
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| Been home but ain’t boned though
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| Threw a few dollars to her
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| Told her get her comb out my hair
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| Turn a square to a spliff and lift my dome in the air
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| Above clouds where the rain falls all inside my home
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| Like, pain colored paint balls
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| Call it what you want
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| Niggas laugh cause my faith strong
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| All I know is no one knows the places that I’ve gone
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| Or faces that I’ve seen cry, seen laugh, seen die
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| Seen eyes with my life in all of them
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| Seen signs of falling but I caught hope
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| Will in my wings, halo, I’ll haul hope
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| To faith like a new black pope
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| Fuck a debate
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| I am dope when I want to be
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| And flow when I’m on the beat
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| I stroke when I want to; |
| need to skeet
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| Fuck the streets
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| They will fuck you if you don’t
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| «Keep your enemies and homies on the ropes
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| When they supposed to be close»
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| Poppa told me. |
| And the few that know showed me the ropes
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| Hanging on dreams to be happy, whether lavish or lean
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| I’ve seen enough to make a boy die nappy
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| Now a man on a search for the God that I am
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| But actually I’d rather be me
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| Is that (Vanity)?
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| My poppa told me it was (Vanity)
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| My old lady said it’s (Vanity)
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| Because I’d rather be all by myself
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| Instead of laughing with the crowd
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| If I don’t care to be part of their gaiety
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| They’ll often say to me, «Don't be so proud.»
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| But how are they to know?
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| I’m looking high and low
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| For love that used to be my own… |