| I hit the dope two time, take the stress off my mind
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| I hit the coast, and I ride, coming quick on your side
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| I’m like a ghost half the time, I’m just creepin' behind
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| I’m never slow, I follow, take your soul, you hollow
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| Bass kickin' like your bitch, kidnap her for kicks
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| Come 6, poppin' sticks, while she biting my lip
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| Don’t flip, don’t dip, better not move too quick
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| I take that grip right off your hip and smack yo' ass with the clip
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| Hollow tip spit, like a blue-nose pit
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| Hold my shit, I’ma fuck your bitch
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| Bump Three-6, while I cut my wrist
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| Funk my kicks, then I break the rim
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| When I dunk that shit, bloodstain the Timb
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| No shit, got razor blades in my fist, taking lists
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| Only time I put the blade down
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| When I gotta pick up my pen
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| Fuck your Benz, I’ma paint the Cadillac black
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| Can’t see me in the night with the lights off (nah)
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| Quicksand on the white walls
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| Living life on the edge, bitch, I might fall (might fall)
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| Don’t give a fuck what they say about me (nope)
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| Peep won’t rest 'till I rest in peace
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| S on my chest when I come up on the beat
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| Full moon flex while you motherfuckers sleep
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| Make my will, while I take my pills
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| Give your bitch chills, when I make my bills
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| If I get killed, I know I’ma die real
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| Stay real still, you already know the deal
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| You already know the deal
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| Lil Peep poppin' Henny bottles, fuck a seal
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| I love the way it feel, so I do it for the thrill
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| Say she wanna chill, bitch I know the fucking deal
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| (Fucking deal)
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| Young shady motherfucker, really scary when I’m comin'
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| If you hear me get running, when you see me, get low
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| Can’t see the profit, no bands in my pockets
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| So I’m skunkin' up and gettin' back on my flow
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| White trash boys, just some white trash boys
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| Flipping up the middle finger to these motherfuckin' hoes
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| I ain’t talking 'bout the women, nah, I’m talking 'bout these bitches
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| That be pushin' all your music and they sell that flow
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| I never gave a fuck about a deal
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| So I ain’t ever fucking with them, man, that’s how it is
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| All these internet bitches hoppin' on my dick
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| Life turning into shit, I’m finna slit my wrists
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| Spittin' a miss and flickin' my wrist, to these bitch boys
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| All I ever hear you do is talk shit, boy
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| I hear you rappin' 'bout the trap, but it ain’t shit boy
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| Hoe, I been on my fucking grind, and ain’t got shit for it
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| What the fuck, bitch? |
| Robbing ain’t gon' cut it, bitch
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| You got no creativity, you ain’t no artist, bitch
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| You ain’t a thug, you ain’t a g, you ain’t the hardest, bitch
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| You just a pussy-ass motherfucker starting shit
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| I spark a blunt, blow the smoke to the fucking breeze
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| Thinking «How the fuck I get out of these fucking trees?»
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| Climbing up, to the top, to the fucking leaves
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| I can’t even fucking see what’s underneath
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| Too high, too much, so alive, but I’m done
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| Smokin' nothing but dust and it’s all I ever loved
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| I don’t wanna hear about it now
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| All I ever wanna see are clouds
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| Too high, too much, so alive, but I’m done
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| Smokin' nothing but dust and it’s all I ever loved
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| I don’t wanna hear about it now
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| All I ever wanna see are clouds |