| Know it sounds like loser shit, but all the deep talk, niggas is used to it
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| I’ve been in Los Angeles paying off the damages
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| 300 dollars say you ain’t live yet
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| Plus I’m taking side bets 'cause the Uber driver ain’t arrived yet
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| Watch me take it back to Prospect
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| Chiefing by the lake house for though super fresh
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| Skinny niggas vexed and my box logo is a Double X
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| I am the wagon that carries the band
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| Threw my last three thou' with a name of Sandra Bland
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| On my project cover I’m staring like Sandra Bland
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| Got my MP & my blunt in my hand
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| Just tune in to the temple that God gave me, the god lately
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| Been goin' hard baby grinding but it’s all gravey
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| Just trying to chop the vinyl to a Mercedes
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| And two ladies, one from Puerto Rico one from Haiti
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| Both fine, both dimes, need Knight time
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| It’s Sunshine
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| (Scratches)
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| All love to Brooklyn, shouts the whole scene
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| Pro Era represent, we staying fly
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| All love to Brooklyn, shouts the whole scene
|
| Pro Era represent, we staying fly
|
| All love to Brooklyn, shouts the whole scene
|
| Pro Era represent, we staying fly
|
| It’s Kirk
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| I’m so down to Earth I feel like I’m in grave danger
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| These boys in the Bush don’t wanna see the mad ranger
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| In Europe starting a new chapter just hit the pager
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| Parkside boy on camera with the nice taper
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| I’ll make you sick dressed up in this fly shit
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| Five thousand for the fit like Gump Forrest go dumb with it
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| Leave 'em at odds I’m dumb wicked in Barneys I’m cotton picking
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| In the field how I make my dirty denim
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| Jedi mind with the force in him
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| I feel the breeze when I soar, hawk vision
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| I see the hate from a mile away
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| Mad you ain’t make the cut quick asking for the fade
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| QP wake-and-bakes put me in the stone age
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| Stop hating, get money for a change
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| And I ain’t talking minimum wage
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| It’s way more to game to stay paid
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| In fact I learned to be the jack-of-all-trades
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| Uh, and shouts to my nigga Jay
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| From my Parkside niggas 'round the way
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| Nothing left to say
|
| (Scratches)
|
| All love to Brooklyn, shouts the whole scene
|
| Pro Era represent, we staying fly
|
| All love to Brooklyn, shouts the whole scene
|
| Pro Era represent, we staying fly
|
| All love to Brooklyn, shouts the whole scene
|
| Pro Era represent, we staying fly
|
| And my crib was the trap house
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| Niggas ain’t sell drugs, but niggas had drugs out
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| Wasn’t no hits taken, but definitely gave hits out
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| Countless bitches got fucked right up on that blue couch
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| Whole crew rock Bape, pull up to the shit tipped
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| We all look kinda suave, cold inland on some chill shit
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| Looking at my phone curving bitches that you chill with
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| Went to Cal’s party just to see what the deal is
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| Shit was wild like some niggas but that’s too Brooklyn
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| You gon' go over head, but all my niggas gonna feel what I said
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| A fake nigga only seeing his death, a thousand times
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| I felt the climate drop mine
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| I got this beat off shit
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| Give a fuck if you caught shit 'cause the beat too brolic
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| She perked up and seen me come like a comet
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| Swear I shoved it in her mouth and almost made the bitch vomit
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| Word to me, I’m wild like Dean Street in '93
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| I smoked away my home training
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| And now I’m in the future just memory laning
|
| (Scratches)
|
| All love to Brooklyn, shouts the whole scene
|
| Pro Era represent, we staying fly
|
| All love to Brooklyn, shouts the whole scene
|
| Pro Era represent, we staying fly
|
| All love to Brooklyn, shouts the whole scene
|
| Pro Era represent, we staying fly |