| Yo, yo, yo…
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| Yo, yo, yo…
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| Whoo, whoo, whoo
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| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
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| Had a dream I was still sixteen
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| But still me when I seen myself
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| I was so bull-headed down the road I was headed
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| Had to slow down and walk with myself
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| Had to talk to myself
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| Argue and fought myself
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| Yeah, I had told myself
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| The road never stroll down there
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| And I told me, shit, I’mma keep it G
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| You lookin' aight, Big Mike
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| Big money, big car, big house, big booty wife
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| Shit, nigga, that’s your life
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| That’s your car, your house, your wife
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| I’m just sayin'
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| You can have that without the strife of the life that a nigga endured
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| You ain’t gotta drop outta college
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| And watch your grand-momma ask the Lord, «Lord, why did he do it?»
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| You ain’t gotta make love to the girl you don’t really love
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| Y’all have a baby and go through it
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| What’s really so bad?
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| The game that I’m givin' is golden
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| 'Cause it was gotten straight from dad
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| 'Did you listen to him Mike?' |
| Wish I had
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| It’s my life, it ain’t that bad (yeah)
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| Keep this conversation locked in your head
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| Put you first, stack your bread
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| I got to make these moves
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| I got to pay my dues
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| I got to take care of mine and mine and mine and mine alone
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| And the folk that need me to be strong
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| I got to hold my own
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| I got to write my wrongs
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| I got to let God steer
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| I got to take myself
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| I got to help myself to live
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| I got to make these moves
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| I got to pay my dues
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| I got to hold my own
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| I got to write my wrongs
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| I got to make these moves
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| I got to pay my dues
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| I got to hold my own
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| I got to write my wrongs
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| Protect myself
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| Now who wouldda thought that a nigga wouldda made it to a penthouse (made it to
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| a penthouse)
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| Man, I been thinkin' 'bout when Pimp came home, went straight to the (straight
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| to the)
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| Now that’s a long way from a pot on the stove with the gram (gram)
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| But when I was comin' up all I had in the pot was some Ramen noodles and Spam
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| And I was like damn and this is some bullshit
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| I don’t want to live like this
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| I just want a chain that rains and nice wrists
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| Why the hell can’t I have me some nice shit?
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| But instead of complainin' I started aimin' higher
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| My passion matched my desire
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| Now I just spit out that fire and never get tired
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| You can put that on a choir
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| Yeah man, I got me suppliers and made some mistakes
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| But guess what? |
| That shit don’t define me
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| That’s why you find me grindin' from the Nineties until I’m in my nineties
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| Shinin, no need to rewind me
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| Said it before and they scared to repeat it
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| I came to give the people game they needed until my life is depleted (life is
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| depleted)
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| Your life is a bitch and it’s best to be mindful of how you gon' treat it (how
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| you gon' treat it)
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| 'Cause if you catch a case with the Devil, my nigga, I’m down for your beatin'
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| (I'm down for your beatin')
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| Can’t get away from the choices you make and the way you behavin' (the way you
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| behavin')
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| So don’t be surprised when the throne that you sit in is startin' to cave-in
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| I got to make these moves
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| I got to pay my dues
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| I got to take care of mine and mine and mine and mine alone
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| And the folk that need me to be strong
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| I got to hold my own
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| I got to write my wrongs
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| I got to let God steer
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| I got to take myself
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| I got to help myself to live
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| I got to make these moves
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| I got to pay my dues
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| I got to hold my own
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| I got to write my wrongs
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| I got to make these moves
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| I got to pay my dues
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| I got to hold my own
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| I got to write my wrongs
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| Protect myself
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| Hey, I got a foot trapped in quicksand (ay)
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| I got my hand stuck in a blender (ay)
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| Walk with a heart that been bruised up
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| Still got a couple of beats left in
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| What a surprise, I’m not dead yet
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| Got a couple of friends that can’t claim that
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| throwin' the bones that got one one
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| Eyes of the State, no fun fun
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| Woke up in the dawn, alone, the mood hung there, yawnin'
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| I don’t see calm that often
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| Lit the stick in her hair with no coughed
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| I’m walkin' the Earth again, better get poppin'
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| Check the old gold watch, I ride often
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| It don’t mean much, but it’s mine, I copped it
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| Have it on my wrist 'til my heart starts stoppin'
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| Good to remind, then I’m lyin' inside coffins
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| I don’t advise, who am I to act wise?
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| Nine out of ten times the swine had arised, so I lie
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| It ain’t a-okay
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| Eh, you get nine bucks they want eight?
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| Try’na chase you and parade around Mace
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| Try to remind myself they will pay
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| You don’t got shit, take a bit of mind games
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| Stick around maybe bring your pain to these lames
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| I got to make these moves
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| I got to pay my dues
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| I got to take care of mine and mine and mine and mine alone
|
| And the folk that need me to be strong
|
| I got to hold my own
|
| I got to write my wrongs
|
| I got to let God steer
|
| I got to take myself
|
| I got to help myself to live
|
| I got to make these moves
|
| I got to pay my dues
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| I got to hold my own
|
| I got to write my wrongs
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| I got to make these moves
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| I got to pay my dues
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| I got to hold my own
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| I got to write my wrongs
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| Protect myself |