| Young Jonathan Taylor Thomas, ridin' in a hummer
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| See, bitches like Joe they see me they start to stutter
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| I’m sittin' on butter. |
| I’m smokin' til the sun up
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| And then I roll another and let it burn like Usher
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| Jenny from the block looking bitch just stop
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| You thinkin that you hard but you just a fuckin bop
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| You’ll never get respect, they’ll never cut the check
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| Bitch, don’t hold your breath less you wanna meet death
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| I got a new blade, I’m tryna break it in
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| I’m hopin' that you come up with some shit so we can get it
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| See BONES let em' have it
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| I’m creepin through the alley
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| I hit the blunt once, and fly away like Lenny Kravitz
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| See, I ain’t even rappin'
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| See, flowin’s just a habit
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| I hope you know what happens if you try to bring me static
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| I’m cuttin' off the lights, you runnin' for your life
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| But really you just runnin' til you run into my knife
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| Dark cold forest, precipitation pourin'
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| See just because you dyin', doesn’t mean that you’re important
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| Nobody gon' miss ya, I promise give it time
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| The memory of you will slowly fade up in they mind
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| Your room gets changed, your clothes put away
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| There’s nothing like you left it and it hurts to even breathe
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| The smile on your parents just as fake as their intentions
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| They’re sayin' that you’ll make it, but they know you’ll never make it
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| I’m rollin' fast, I’m smokin' slow
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| I’m gettin' cash, I’m blowin' smoke
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| I’m rollin' fast, I’m smokin' slow
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| I’m gettin' cash, I’m blowin' smoke |