| I was made this way, I was made this way
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| I was made this way, I was made this way, yeah
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| When I was younger, OG’s used to let me come around
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| And soak up game like a sponge, or should I say beach towel
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| They woke my game up when I was a little child, when I was broke
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| But now I’m up and I ain’t ever comin' down
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| I wasn’t a knock, I was the server
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| My street was like a drive-thru service like In-n-Out Burger
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| We was havin' our digits, no wolf tickets
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| Me, Kaveo, D-Shot, B-Legit, my cousins and siblings
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| In my region, in my district, on my land
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| They got more K’s than the Klan
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| In my city they got more guns than Corpus Christi
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| Gotta keep your head above choppy water and quicksand
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| Give you the thirty second checkin' for disrespectin' a pillar
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| For disrespectin' a staple, you’ll get disabled, unable
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| Let me breathe on you for a minute, let me game you up
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| When I was growin' up, we went from the shoulders and knuckled up
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| We had to square up and squabble, swing 'em and chunk 'em
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| And even if you got your ass beat, at least you stood for somethin'
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| I don’t condone sucka shit, that’s not how the game was designed
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| I don’t tape conversations, I don’t record FaceTime
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| I’m the last of my make so therefore it won’t be no more
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| It’s stormin' suckas, it’s thunderin', when it rains, it pours
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| «40 Water, what it do? |
| You still dribble?» |
| Nope
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| «Oh, I was gon' say, if you do, you got a pickle?»
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| A pickle, a pea, a pound?
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| Let me call one of my folks, they still get down
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| Life is a gamble but this ain’t Caesar’s
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| This a Hail Mary, a jumpball, a buzzer beater
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| Ain’t been home in a month, ain’t been sleep in a week
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| I’m in love with the road, I’m addicted to cheese
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| Jumped off the Porsche, landed straight in the streets
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| I play the hand that was given to me
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| Bitch, I was made this way, I was made this way
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| And we were made this way, I was made this way, ayy
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| I might mix Amiri with some Alexander Wang drip
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| Tryna see how many hoes can the plane fit
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| How the fuck you drivin' that on Earth? |
| That’s a spaceship
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| Domestic violence on my neck, that’s how the chain hit, bitch
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| Under pressure, I’ma shoot the three like Jordan in his prime (Boom)
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| Ruler of this Glock, nigga, measure up your eyes
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| Diamonds in the Rollie face like, 'Nigga, fuck the time' (Fuck it)
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| Blow your brains out then we gon' see what’s on your mind
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| Nigga hatin' on me, take his bitch on a vacation
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| When your crib get lit up, them ain’t no Christmas decorations
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| Wake up, pick my clothes, I’ll jump in the shower
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| Then go kick it with my unc' who used to sell powder
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| You joined a gang but don’t nothin' about it (You don’t know shit)
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| That’s how we know you only did it for survival (You scary)
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| You better pray that you ain’t clique up with the rivals
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| 'Cause every night we huntin' with extensions on them rifles
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| Big Glock on my hip look like a blow dryer (Big glizzy)
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| Smoke a Backwood, take my soul higher
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| These rappers ain’t even talented, they got ghostwriters
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| Set your head on fire, turn you to Ghost Rider
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| Ain’t been home in a month, ain’t been sleep in a week
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| I’m in love with the road, I’m addicted to cheese
|
| Jumped off the Porsche, landed straight in the streets
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| I play the hand that was given to me
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| Bitch, I was made this way, I was made this way
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| And we were made this way, I was made this way, ayy |