| It gave me chills the first time
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| That I saw that nigga since he shot LaGhram
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| They had him locked down, he got his weight up
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| And now he swears he’s the fuckin' man
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| No remorse, that niggas cold
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| He’s runnin' shit now or so I’m told
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| Word up the devil done stole his soul in fact
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| I heard he sold it long ago
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| No doubt to break out, from the ghetto
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| That be making fiends out of moms
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| Car alarms, packin' heat when the beef is on
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| Word is bond, son, in this triteness it’s all the same
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| Watch your back it’s a god damn shame, who’s fakin' jax
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| Your best friend will sell you out and no doubt
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| He’s makin' a name, he’d die for the fame
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| I don’t want much I just want everything, die for the fame.
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| 'Some get a little, and some get none
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| Some catch a bad one' yo, that was my anthem
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| 17 long hard years of blood tears
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| Nigga you were never there, nigga you would never care
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| Fuck the word 'cause the world fucked me
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| You could take me outta' hard times
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| But you can’t hard times outta' me
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| Run your shit, bitch, we was tight
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| But now I look out for myself, only for myself
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| I’m a changed man with a changed game plan
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| Hung out together, grew up, you was my main man
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| But shit’s just not the same, I’m in it for the fame
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| Childhood nightmare scenes that souped his head up
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| His broken heart and broken dreams got him mad fed up
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| The pain done got his eyes, he cried for the first time
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| Since his mother died when he was 5
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| Sinkin' his sorrows in Jack D and Old E
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| Just then he wasn’t glad he reminded himself of his daddy
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| Who made the pipe his wife and hit it every night
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| His tears were thick, his thoughts were mad hectic
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| He’s not pretending, he’s thinking of ending
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| The reminiscing over hard times and hard luck
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| Nobody gave a fuck again the agony struck
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| He put the barrel in his mouth, bit down and just bucked |