| Kicked off my shoes, tripped acid in the rain
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| Wore my jacket as a cape, and my umbrella as a cane
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| The richest man rocks the snatch-less necklace
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| Spineless bitches in backless dresses
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| Wore my feelings on my sleeveless
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| My weed seedless, my trees leafless
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| I miss my diagonal grilled cheeses
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| And back when Mike Jackson was still Jesus
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| Before I believed in not believing in
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| Yeah, I inhaled, who believed in me not breathing in
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| Cigarette stained smile all covered in sin
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| My big homie died young; |
| just turned older than him
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| I seen it happen, I seen it happen, I see it always
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| He still be screaming, I see his demons in empty hallways
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| I trip to make the fall shorter
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| Fall quarter was just a tall order
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| And I’m hungry, I’m just not that thirsty
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| As of late, all my verses seem not so verse-y
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| And all my words just mean controversy
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| Took the team up off my back, like «That's not your jersey?»
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| Stressin', pullin' my hair out, hoping I don’t get picked
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| All this medicine in me hoping I don’t get sick
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| Making all of this money hoping I don’t get rich
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| Cause niggas still getting bodied for foams
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| Sometimes the truth don’t rhyme
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| Sometime the lies get millions of views
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| Funerals for little girls, is that appealing to you?
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| From your cubicle desktop, what a beautiful view
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| I think love is beautiful too
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| Building forts from broken dams, what a hoover could do
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| For future hoopers dead from Rugers
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| Shooting through the empty alley
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| Could’ve threw him an alley-oop
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| Helping him do good in school
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| Damn that acid burn when it clean ya
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| I still miss being a senior
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| And performing at all those open mic events
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| High school, eyes closed seeing arenas
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| And I still get jealous of Vic
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| And Vic’s still jealous of me
|
| But if you touch my brother
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| All that anti-violence shit goes out the window along with you
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| And the rest of your team
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| Smoking cigarettes to look cooler
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| I only stop by to look through ya
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| And I’m only getting greedier
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| And I’m still Mr. Youmedia
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| And I still can’t find Talent
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| And I’m still choosing classmates that wouldn’t fuck
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| Mom still thinks I should go back to school
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| And Justin still thinks I’m good enough
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| And Mama Jan still don’t take her meds
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| And I still be asking God to show his face
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| And I still be asking God to show his face
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| I am a new man, I am sanctified
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| Oh, I am holy, I have been baptized
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| I have been born again, I am the White Light
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| Rain, rain don’t go away |