| I know you want me to be that type of dude
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| And I want to be who you’d like me to
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| But we both know, I can’t do nothin' at all
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| You say there’s no use in walkin' out
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| And I say there’s just what I’m talkin' ‘bout
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| ‘Cause we both know I can’t do nothin' at all
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| We do our thing, son
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| Some will spend a lifetime trying to find a reason
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| We do our thing, son
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| War takes prisoners and I ain’t trynna be one
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| We do our thing
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| No apologies, no complaints and no refunds
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| It’s mad work to be done
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| They may say I’m just a dreamer
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| Well at least I’m thinkin' while I’m sleepin'
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| ‘Cause the last thing I can do is nothin' at all
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| They may say we’ll never win against ‘em
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| I say fuck you and your cynicism
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| As for me, I can’t do nothin' at all
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| My past plagued by a plethora of regrets
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| In my agonist age I’m a questioner of precepts
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| If we left the staff in place to blaze the path then, uh
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| The shackles stay and bind the sequitur to each step
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| The chain, boss, be an irritant to contact
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| I’m trained not to be a militant of combat
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| Upon that, frame the shot — pop and aim
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| Sayin' the game’s soft be the will of him who want that
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| «YO» said to be the idiom of paltry
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| Yeah, the broke fed upon the brilliance of bawdry
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| Lauded be, see folks spread — ahead go now
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| The quote read by the billions, so pardon me
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| The tag «sham» is but a negligent critique
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| While some had a chance others fester in the disease
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| The kid needs to pack the jam, man I get at y’all
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| Goddamn he’s pressin' it, best believe
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| You can call me anything you’d like
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| And I will call you when it’s time to strike
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| ‘Cause we both know I can’t do nothin' at all
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| We may not be in agreement now
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| But we have got to try and work it out
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| ‘Cause we both know we can’t do nothin' at all
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| We do our thing, son
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| Long as you do yours, land here become fecund
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| We do our thing, son
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| Through the act we attract two, hope to reach one
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| We do our thing
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| Some’ll paint a piece, some’ll spray with a machine gun
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| It’s mad work to be done |