| You was manifested in an egg, developed in a womb
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| Born out of a moon belly, first day of doom
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| Crying out like you wanna be put back in there
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| Maybe later in an incubator for more care
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| Alone, get to your home and your cribs set
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| Put behind bars and you ain’t even lived yet
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| On through the playpens, when will this fate end?
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| Parents can’t make rent, money from the safe spent
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| Got building blocks out, making a house
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| Mama with her cheese blocks setting traps for a mouse
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| You watching her same loving hands that absorb pain, kill
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| You’re learning that life’s more than a board game
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| Still better line up the cubes in your rubix right
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| Piece the puzzle together, there’s holes in your views of life
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| Only for sure thing is years, but you gotta fight
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| Keep the wind to your right or hit the pen flying kites
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| Living in a world no different from a cell (4X)
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| Walk up the rectangle steps, take a seat on the bus
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| Backpack, pack that sack meal for your lunch
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| Four cornered blackboard makes you act bored
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| No use paying attention, now you facing suspension
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| So its back on the block and the calling you square
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| try to get the label off but you’re glued to the cable box
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| Closed Caption clothes and fashion, so attractive
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| As you lay on a box spring and old mattress
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| Choices blocked off, childhood gone
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| Just future cubicles and retirement homes
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| But you can’t see it happening, live savagely
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| Only thing you put passion in is Zig-Zag packaging
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| Swallow Oxycontins to find solace
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| You need a fix so you hit some blockhead for his wallet
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| But the gun jams and the cops come to take ya And now that bullet ain’t the only thing thats caught up in a chamber (chamber)
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| From a cellular phone to a cell on a phone
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| Or trapped in confession seeking blessing trying to atone
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| With no more casual pounds with the hand on the clock
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| Now locked in city block working Lucifers Lot
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| Down to box for success, is that true or is it not?
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| In ya room coping with stress
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| Smoking Kools from out that box
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| Shit ain’t cool, in detention no flinchin, that shit ain’t school
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| Cold sell for a quick sale, but April Fool!
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| Now your case is on the docket to face a box of your peers
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| And them bars they trying to take you to Won’t nothing like Cheers
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| Just years upon years, till your last box is near
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| Without your participation incarceration ain’t clear
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| If the plots you got are flagrant
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| It’s best that you leave em vacant
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| Cause there’s cells in your mind, that’ll free you everytime
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| Even the tales thrown in these bars can’t be confined
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| Just be patient, nothing in life is by design |