| I want to send this one out real quick to the motherfuckers that always think
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| it’s them
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| Oh it’s them
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| But if it’s always them, then it’s probably you
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| Motherfucker
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| They hopped up in the car, destination ATL
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| She was going down to dance, him he had some weight to sell
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| They’d been best friends almost 20 years
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| They made a pact to get the fuck up out of here
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| It was zero hope, it was so much pain
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| He did some shady shit, got ran up out the dope game
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| She the type to fuck her best friend, man with no shame
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| They off to reinvent themselves where no one knew their name
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| First stop was Vegas, so he could move a little work
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| Then they hit the 40 east, smoking good, blowing purp
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| Took turns driving, tried to make it straight through
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| Until they got pulled over by the state troop
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| Lucky she was driving, she got to plead her case
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| Undid her blouse, threw some cleavage in his face
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| She giggled, he gave a couple corny pickup lines
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| Of course he let her go with just a warning this time
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| That night, they arrived in the ATL
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| Headed straight to College Park, checked into a motel
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| 47 bucks a night, they had enough for two weeks
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| Took a shower, went to eat, now it was time to hit the streets
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| You, you can’t run away from you
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| You are who you are no matter where the fuck you move
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| You can’t hide from the truth, and you can’t run from it
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| Eventually my nigga you gon have to face what’s coming
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| Bring the same bullshit to a brand new day
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| And get the same kind of fun in a brand new way
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| They say that life ain’t fair, but it’s really rather simple
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| It won’t be there when you get there if you don’t take it with you
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| Dropped her off at Goosebumps, off of
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| Then he took the 85 to his homie’s weed spot
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| Mission was to help his homie make the transition
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| From green to that white, he had the keys to the ignition
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| Dope up in the door panel, he hopped up in the kitchen
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| And in less than a week, he was working, he was whipping
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| But you don’t open up a dope spot without permission
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| Now the local niggas tripping and they coming for commission
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| They pulled up in a new drop, bumping that Guwop
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| Parked at his new spot, lit it up with two yawks
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| Niggas hit the floor like they was doing burpees
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| White tee looking like he spilled a cherry slurpy
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| Almost died in LA for doing some bad business
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| Bout to die in the A for doing some bad business
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| Knocking on death’s door, no Jehovah’s witness
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| Lying in a pool of blood, now he praying for forgiveness
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| She dancing at the club, her new name peaches
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| Making money cause she flyer than these country beaches
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| At least that’s what she think, her pussy just as pink
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| Walking round backstage like her shit don’t stink
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| The other girls got tired of her acting Hollywood
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| They held her down and cut her face up pretty good
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| She left the ER, stitches for her three scars
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| Guess who she seen on her way to the car?
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| Her homeboy shot up, laying on a stretcher
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| Blood dried up all round his mouth, looking like some ketchup
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| They ran away from home to escape all the drama
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| But no matter where you run you never escape karma |