| I woke up this morning like
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| «What I gotta worry 'bout? |
| God got me»
|
| I woke up this morning like
|
| «What I gotta worry 'bout? |
| God got me»
|
| Uh, cold in my eyes, breath stankin'
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| Had a dream I was still in my '89 Lincoln, yeah
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| Woke up, told God I was tryna change the world
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| He said, «Boy, whatchu need? |
| Whatchu thinkin'? |
| (I got it)»
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| I said, «I need the juice»
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| He said, «Check your email»
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| I had a beat there from JuiceBangers
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| That’ll work for some inspiration
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| 808s all like a hockey player
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| He said, «Go ahead, it’s time to shine now»
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| I’m in your corner like timeout
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| Let the haters go and sleep sound
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| They gon' smell the Folgers when you grind out
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| And, Lord, please forgive me I have envy in my heart
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| Knowing I’m really Your son, wishing I was just a star
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| That was when I was selling mixtapes for gas in my car
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| How dare I look at what I got and say that You ain’t gave it all
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| Know the universe all in Your hands, but I got ambition the size of a planet
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| Plus, I’m unqualified like Michael Scott in The Office, but somehow I manage, uh
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| Why would I panic?
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| Woke up right out of a casket
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| This time we 'bout to do damage
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| He got it covered like bandage
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| We in like all of my bandits
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| RMG at it
|
| I woke up this morning like
|
| «What I gotta worry 'bout? |
| God got me»
|
| I woke up this morning like
|
| «What I gotta worry 'bout? |
| God got me»
|
| I woke up this morning like
|
| «What I gotta worry 'bout? |
| God got me»
|
| I woke up this morning like
|
| «What I gotta worry 'bout? |
| God got me»
|
| I done gave it all to Jesus, but sometime I try to keep it
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| I done came up from the bottom, but I done rocked arenas
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| I’d kill the show, get off stage, and still feel like I’m worthless
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| Maybe I should quit the circus, maybe I forgot my purpose
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| That’s that-
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| See, I ain’t tryna get down
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| But, boy, this life can kick you right into the ground
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| But I ain’t afraid, no
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| Get up and try, day in, day out
|
| Ooh
|
| That’s that dough
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| The kind that’ll cook with you if you let it
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| The kind that’ll kill you off at a murder scene
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| Get the yellow tape, there’s another dream, yeah
|
| We done came a long, long way
|
| Yeah, I mean a long, long way
|
| Cup of Kool-Aid, powdered eggs, fried bologna all on a plate (all on a plate)
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| Went from ramen noodles to the real ramen, not the kind with the powder (with
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| the powder!)
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| Now I’m taking mama, get filet mignon with the side of the chowder (clam
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| chowder!)
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| She deserve it
|
| Worked a million hours, no off day
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| I want it all
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| So before I die I’m tryna make every week a vacay, yeah (make a vacay!)
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| And if I lose it all, I can’t sell a record, know I’m okay, yeah (we good!)
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| 'Cause God got me, yeah, God got me, boy, we okay, yeah (we okay!)
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| So I gotta get it
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| I can’t be out here pretending like I ain’t tryna win it (woo!)
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| Man, I talked a whole lot about faith, boy, now I’m tryna live it, yeah
|
| I woke up this morning like
|
| «What I gotta worry 'bout? |
| God got me»
|
| I woke up this morning like
|
| «What I gotta worry 'bout? |
| God got me»
|
| I woke up this morning like
|
| «What I gotta worry 'bout? |
| God got me»
|
| I woke up this morning like
|
| «What I gotta worry 'bout? |
| God got me»
|
| Oh
|
| I ain’t gotta worry, no
|
| Yeah |