| Flutes accompanied by strings
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| Flower blossoms painted on our bottles of champagne
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| We mix it with that Hennessy Privilege, doing my thing
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| Just a fashion killer at the funeral with thousand dollar frames
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| I been wearing jeans more often, I’m feeling extra bossy
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| Having enemies measured out for their coffins
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| Stand above the law shit, don’t get lost here
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| Even your life won’t cover the cost, it’s deeper than that
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| I heard you paint houses, might keep you around us, smooth some bumps out
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| We been having a trouble free run for like ten months now
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| Pretty soon I know one of them assholes gon' come 'round
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| Trying to lose some screws, destroy what we build
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| We on some next level shit, got them NASA engineers
|
| Shooters on the roof like Santa Claus' reindeers
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| I been going paranoid, I seen so many homies killed
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| Some of 'em wasn’t my boys but you know I still feel the pain
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| 'Cause I know exactly what it is to lose your main man
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| All the moves y’all made to stack change gone down the drain
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| I think about my nigga Meek Mill
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| So many dead homie faces on his chain, but that’s just how we live in this game
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| Survivor’s remorse
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| Our homies die, we go up for 'em, we glow up for 'em
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| Pour up for 'em, smoke up for 'em
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| Smash that bad bitch on the hood of my foreign for 'em
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| Survivor’s remorse
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| I think about my nigga J Stone
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| The continue the marathon
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| And Pop Smoke though we never met
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| Your originality I had to respect
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| I look around and see who’s left
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| I’m 'bout to pull up on all my homies, no more sending text, survivor’s remorse
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| Our loved ones in the sky, they the real superstars above all
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| Survivor’s remorse |