| I mean it, I live it
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| Find a niche and then run with it
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| Walk on the wing, don’t flinch at the wind
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| Even when that plane is tail-spinning
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| Believe that when I leave, I’mma leave grinning
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| Gritty city, different singing
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| Like a spinning prop, stop
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| (Head back to the beginning)
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| Those Airwalks were no paradox
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| Pushed my Powell past the Band Box
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| Told my mama being landlocked
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| On this blacktop was just not me
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| I never cared what gravity planned
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| I had my own design on a renegade thought
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| I escaped and I found me a clan
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| Didn’t get away clean, took a couple shots
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| Been beat down, but I smile like
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| «It's my world, my wild life
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| I’m in flight, I’m sound bites
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| And that’s my science applied right»
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| And I live like, «Fuck it
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| Those rules are fake and they don’t apply»
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| I’mma shine 'til death unplug it
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| I’mma hang my letters in the sky
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| It’s the guilt of the gold teeth, king shit
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| Lord of the Fly, E.X.U
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| Brillo, boppers, helicopters
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| Hella choppers, Hello coppers
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| Robbers got the jump, say, «How high?»
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| Suspended animation casting
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| Shadows over the sun, blind
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| From the light coming in from the outside
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| Grip the ground with both feet, hold tight
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| Kiss the pound or the fists will fight
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| Feast or famine, at least the beast is rabid
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| Increase the peace or cease the madness
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| Each his own, you eat the bone
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| The meat alone could bleed a stone
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| Catch a 2 Piece or a Junior Spesh
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| In my element way out my zone
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| Pro rate the program
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| Slap pros, pop 'em off propane
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| Huff boy Space Cadillac Auralac
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| Gutter punk class voyeur
|
| Chef Boyar do the deed for ya
|
| Oye, loco
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| Bring the Coco
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| Chanel covered in Soco
|
| Cattle brand you a logo
|
| And I fly a flag of my creation
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| I got my own nation
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| I’m in my own nation
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| I’m in my own
|
| And we go for broke, no hesitation
|
| What we want, we take it
|
| While they out there waiting
|
| We on our own
|
| Bang for the buck, venison
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| Clean shot and a little luck, fed again
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| Don’t take much
|
| Off grid, off crutch
|
| Let the wolves eat what the kids won’t touch
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| And I sweep my tracks behind me
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| Take only what we earn
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| Better hope they can’t find me
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| Learn real quick, real witch won’t burn
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| I’ve been gone
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| I’ve been out there, out here, grinning
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| Been fucking with the light on
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| I’ve been killing that
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| «I'm not living that bullshit» shit for years, bro
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| We don’t even live here, bro
|
| I’ll be leaving with the wind
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| I believe in getting in where the fuck you want
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| Whether you fit or you build, bro
|
| Motherfuck, wait
|
| Giddyup or
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| Give it up or whatever, just gotta fill up the plate
|
| More than keep up the pace
|
| Gotta kill up the race, go
|
| And I fly a flag of my creation
|
| I got my own nation
|
| I’m in my own nation
|
| I’m in my own
|
| And we go for broke, no hesitation
|
| What we want, we take it
|
| While they out there waiting
|
| I got my own nation
|
| We on our own |