| Ayy, fuck the government, tryna disrupt my reaches
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| Ayy, money scans can discuss with leeches
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| One hand wash the other hand, that’s the thesis
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| Why they hands out when my count increases?
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| I can’t understand a man who ain’t tryna be shit
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| All my life, I been strivin' for new achievements
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| Yeah, best believe, my hustle is Medellín
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| My struggle is everything, I’m subtle with everything
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| I run it in every scene, distinguished
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| Even when liquor spilt on me, speakin' broken English
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| My vision is pure, my light, it cannot be extinguished
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| I pictured this now when I was only a delinquent
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| Can’t fuck with nobody who motivation are relinquished
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| And more people I meet, the more I realize that it’s frequent
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| Y’all really need to skip the sob, picture God, go get a job
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| Realize that the only thing stoppin' you from a lot
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| Is your own mind, own thoughts, it’s in a knot
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| Voices inside your head, whisperin', never stop
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| And it’s always negative, it’s a wrist in the pot
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| Even when it make somethin', there’s a twist in the plot
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| Can’t tell the difference know 'tween a bitch and a thot
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| 'tween the real gang bangers and the pussies who flock
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| Internet got you tryin' to be somethin' you not
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| And it’s only goin' up, feel like it never stop
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| I’d rather die real
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| Y’all should clap for my victory lap, now stand still
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| If I don’t speak the shit from my heart, what do I feel?
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| If all I do is mumble on tracks, what’s my appeal?
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| If all I talk about is my racks and bein' real
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| And make you love money, you jacked, it get you killed
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| And what’s the point of grabbin' this mic and tryna build?
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| My voice meant to shake up your life, that’s why I’m skilled
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| I smoke a lot of weed, my momma say I should chill
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| I’m dealin' with victories and life with plenty seals
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| People lookin' at me with eyes, they gotta share
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| They see me as a blue dollar sign, acquired deals
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| They me as an opportune moment to make mills
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| So how the fuck do I find time that’s tranquil?
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| Pressure like that bring average man to a standstill
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| The weight the world all on shoulder like anvils
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| I’m droppin' it off, meditation
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| My lifestyle is, this my generation
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| Lookin' off at my mind state, there’s no limitations
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| Even when I had MySpace, I was pushin' greatness
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| We try to make this music because if people can listen to this music like you
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| see them today, it won’t be viable, it won’t live on. |
| You understand?
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| Today, it’s something like, disposable music. |
| Cannot fall for that trap.
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| The music must have spirituality, that is what the founding fathers intended,
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| this music’s only sixty years old. |
| Okay, too quick. |
| There’s more to it than
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| that. |
| It’s entertainment, yes, so I would never knock it, I would never go down
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| sayin' nothin' 'bout what some of my brothers might do to earn them bread.
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| But the foundation of the music must be kept, and the moral standard of the
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| music must be kept as well |