| Take 'em back home, to the roads that I know
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| Sleep where you sleep, and you die where you born
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| Fuck what you know, and fuck what you’ve been told
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| Shaved hair running through the snow, boy with the frostbit skull
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| Now back to tell 'em once more, the young white mac came back with the flow
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| Never had money or hometown pride
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| Every night ride, like tonight we die
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| Town fucked up, so the kids fucked up
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| Everything cash, from the views to the drugs
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| Looking at the world only way they know how
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| Throw away your time til they throw you in the ground
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| I don’t like you I don’t like your friends
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| I hope you never like me, let’s not pretend
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| Looking at the ones at the so called top
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| Looking at us for the so called props
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| Try to take sound, but you can’t take style
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| Can’t replicate nothing that we done, get around
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| Move up out the way, kill yourself today
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| I hope you know the money that you makin' ain’t a thing bitch |