| To whom are concerned
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| Don’t take me vain
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| I plowed a hard road for people like Little Wayne
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| I put it all in place
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| To have it taken away
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| And live in ridicule and grief, dismay
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| Before my face got stubble
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| My house burned to rubble
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| The party that I planned for the world got me in trouble
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| Journalists asked what I did with my money
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| I gave it to the needy
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| Not that greedy, I’m Quik
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| I do it like I wanna'
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| Something like the South of France
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| I want to hear the thunder
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| Now open up the ceiling, ask the valet
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| Pull the roof off
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| I want to feel the feeling
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| So let the raindrops kiss me on my Angelic face
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| I’m such a sport, had to ask the turtle
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| Was it a race?
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| And now I yield for the snail’s pace
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| Cross town traffic in a haze
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| I love this place
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| I’m up and I’m at it
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| I guess I’m just a musical addict
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| I like it when my life is automatic
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| I’m summoning Magic
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| I gotta avoid it when its tragic
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| So call me when you need a new gadget
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| I’m puffin the dragon
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| It’s fried chicken in back of the wagon
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| Mercedes, Lamborghini we draggin
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| On the Interstate 15 to Vegas
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| We drunk and we niggas
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| They pay us, We playas
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| Betrayed to the point where i pop my trunk
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| But why me?
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| Go to prison and send heaven a punk
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| I was the star of the show
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| But that turns your friends against you
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| Hence, they’ll never get another opportunity since you
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| Salon shop talk now, Days are jaded
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| They ask a thousand questions
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| While im getting my hair braided
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| Staring at me funny
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| Counting one dollar bills
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| Greed is a sin but ignorance kills
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| And LA can be a very cold place at times
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| Alot of different drugs
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| No universal mind
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| On the same page of alot of different books
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| I swear that this could be as fun as it looks
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| Cause when you ride em right
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| You get the fun in the sun
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| But if you stab the
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| Got one and your done
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| On the surface its calm
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| The naked eye can’t see it
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| But the undercurrents there
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| To steal a body if needed
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| So be it
|
| I’m up and I’m at it
|
| I guess I’m just a musical addict
|
| I like it when my life is automatic
|
| I’m summoning Magic
|
| I gotta avoid it when its tragic
|
| So call me when you need a new gadget
|
| I’m puffin the dragon
|
| It’s fried chicken in back of the wagon
|
| Mercedes, Lamborghini we draggin
|
| On the Interstate 15 to Vegas
|
| We drunk and we niggas
|
| They pay us, We playas
|
| Rose Hills filling up with all of my friends
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| Emotions I can’t show em
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| Im just keeping it in
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| Got alot of living to do
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| Avoiding the laws of the land
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| The grim reaper got the scythe in his hand
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| So its party on the stage
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| While playing everything
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| Scratch the record
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| Throw my hands up
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| Make everybody sing
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| Still the one man band
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| Still a Hip-Hop fan
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| A producer from Old Spruce
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| But with a mic and a band
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| Im not as passionate about it
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| But i hit now and then
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| Not naive to envy that fills the hearts of men
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| Im a G from the streets
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| But i need a new letter
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| One that announces my power and describes me better
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| Im a Q from a composition writer
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| I see it all in high lighter
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| From the perspective of a biter
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| So Drake I owe you a line and Diddy you too
|
| Canada, New York and Compton lets get a brew
|
| I’m up and I’m at it
|
| I guess I’m just a musical addict
|
| I like it when my life is automatic
|
| I’m summoning Magic
|
| I gotta avoid it when its tragic
|
| So call me when you need a new gadget
|
| I’m puffin the dragon
|
| It’s fried chicken in back of the wagon
|
| Mercedes, Lamborghini we draggin
|
| On the Interstate 15 to Vegas
|
| We drunk and we niggas
|
| They pay us, We playas |