| I walk on water
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| But I ain’t no Jesus
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| I walk on water
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| But only when it freezes (fuck)
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| Why, are expectations so high?
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| Is it the bar I set?
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| My arms, I stretch, but I can’t reach
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| A far cry from it, or it’s in my grasp, but as
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| Soon as I grab, squeeze
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| I lose my grip like the flying trapeze
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| Into the dark, I plummet
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| Now the sky’s blackening, I know the mark’s high
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| Butter-flies rip apart my stomach
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| Knowing that no matter what bars I come with
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| You’re gonna hark, gripe, and that’s a hard Vicodin to swallow
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| So I scrap these, as pressure increases, like khakis
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| I feel the ice cracking, because
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| I walk on water
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| But I ain’t no Jesus
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| I walk on water
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| But only when it freezes
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| It’s the curse of the standard
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| That the first of the Mathers disc set
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| Always in search of the verse that I haven’t spit yet
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| Will this step just be another misstep
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| To tarnish whatever the legacy, love or respect, I’ve garnered?
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| The rhyme has to be perfect, the delivery flawless
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| And it always feels like I’m hitting the mark
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| 'Til I go sit in the car, listen, and pick it apart
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| Like, «this shit is garbage»
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| God’s given me all this
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| Still I feel no different regardless
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| Kids look to me like as a God, this is retarded
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| If only they knew, it’s a facade and it’s exhaustive
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| And I try to not listen to nonsense
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| But if you bitches are trying to strip me of my confidence
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| Mission accomplished
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| I’m not God-sent
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| Nas, Rakim, Pac, Big, James Todd Smith, and I’m not Prince, so
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| I walk on water
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| But I ain’t no Jesus
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| I walk on water (It's true, I’m a Rubik’s, it’s true)
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| But only when it freezes (It's true) |