| Know that
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| Every morning I wake up
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| I look to the skies above and thank God for another day
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| Every night before I go to sleep
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| I look up to the stars and I pray
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| It don’t matter if you a scared nigga
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| A real nigga or the mother of a dead nigga
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| You still look to the sky when you pray
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| Know that
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| Birds chirpin', druggers lurkin', tryin' to find they crack rock
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| I’m in the kitchen helping my little niece pack up her lunch box
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| Still do or die 'round these parts so my gun cocked
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| Never know who might approach while standin' at her bus stop
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| Kiss her on the forehead, tell her make her uncle proud
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| Right after I hurt a nigga I fire up my blunt of loud
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| Now it’s time I hit the block, take my chances sellin' rock
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| I’m already fire hot, just had a run-in with the cops, yo
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| (They look at the sky)
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| Staring off into the sky, smoking kush until I’m high
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| Watching my life pass me by, I’m still tryna' figure why
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| My mama serving fast food, she work until her body tired
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| Do it all tomorrow, got too much pride to borrow
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| I’m selling drugs to my fam with no remorse or sorrow
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| Just tryin' to buy some time cause we ain’t promised tomorrow
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| My cousin’s car got repoed cause he ain’t pay his condo
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| I’m knee-deep in the dope game getting money in my cargoes
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| Reminiscent 'bout them days
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| Holding hands with my mama walking on that playground
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| Now I’m caught up in that drama
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| Just a statistic, upliftin' niggas spirits
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| I was born with the gift to paint these pictures with my lyrics
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| I’ve been diagnosed the sickest
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| With none of y’all permission
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| I used to get beat with switches
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| Now we beat niggas pretendin'
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| I’m gone off that gremlin and arms reaching my semi
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| Paranoid, schizophrenic
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| Pray to Lord ya’ll forgive me
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| Shit, I’m just a lost bird flying on the wrong path
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| My nigga with them chickens make them jump back a whole half
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| Feedin' pigeons with my niece
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| I’m tryin' to help her with her math, birds of a feather flock together
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| I’m so fucking glad
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| I turned out the way I did, without the help of my dad
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| Now I’m all alone, blowing strong in my bachelor’s pad
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| Penthouse on the top floor, I can’t see shit but these birds
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| They told me that I could fly, now my body on the curb
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| Word
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| Every night I hit my knees
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| I just pray that god turns me into a bird
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| I fly away (x2)
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| Know that |