| Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
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| And sorry I could not travel both
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| And be one traveler, long I stood
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| And looked down one as far as I could
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| To where it bent in the undergrowth;
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| Then took the other, as just as fair
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| And having perhaps the better claim
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| Because it was grassy and wanted wear
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| Though as for that the passing there
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| Had worn them really about the same
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| And both that morning equally lay
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| In leaves no step had trodden black
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| Oh, I kept the first for another day!
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| Yet knowing how way leads on to way
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| I doubted if I should ever come back
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| I shall be telling this with a sigh
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| Somewhere ages and ages hence:
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| Two roads diverged in a wood, and I
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| I took the one less traveled by
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| And that has made all the difference
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| I’m not the man you expect me to be
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| I’m not the man that smokes the most amount of weed
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| I’m not the man who’s always hanging with a bitch
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| I’m not the man who’s got five damn kids
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| I’m not Mac Miller and I’m not Asher Roth
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| I’m not Eminem I’m not Aesop Rock
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| I’m not jaded and I’m not full of myself
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| I’m not perfect and I’m not in need of help
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| I’m not apposed to going out at night
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| I’m not the one to instigate the party
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| I’m not the guy who’s getting hammered in the back
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| I’m not the guy who’s always tryna get naughty
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| I’m not the guy the ladies talked about until now
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| I’m not the guy who’s always switching up his style
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| I’m not the guy who sold his soul for a record deal
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| And I’m not comfortable with letting you know how I feel
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| And I don’t need your expectations
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| I’m a do just what I do
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| If you keep talking shit I might have to
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| Write this song
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| If you wanna call me something
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| Label me whatever you want
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| I know when I get home to my mirror
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| I know what I’m not |