| Ma said «Wake up son, good morning»
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| I rolled outta bed, greeted mama with a yawn then
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| Paused to scratch an itch and went, down to the kitchen
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| Fixed a plate of eggs and bacon, glass of OJ Simpson
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| Just as I was about to dig in
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| A thought jumped in my head, school was to be attended, shit
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| I payed my thoughts no attention
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| Cause I wasn’t tryna kick it with this bitch that just ended it with me
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| But mama wasn’t havin it, so I grabbed my bag
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| And split out the door and saw the whore that I’d rather kick
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| It seems kinda brash but it’s the hash, I mean the harsh truth
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| She runs shit, she’s the jock, I’m the horseshoe
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| She’s gorgeous, when niggas see it jaws hit the floor so
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| When she left, it didn’t break my heart it broke my torso
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| Making my eyes ache, stalking her MySpace
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| Posted a new pic, I mean it when I say, that I fucking hate you, but
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| Maybe if you looked in this direction
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| I’d pick my heart up off the floor and put it in my chest then
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| Feel the fucking life, rushing through my body
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| But you got a guy, it’s not me, so my wrist is looking sloppy
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| Come on, let’s cut the bull like a matador
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| You light me up like lamps a chance is all I’m really asking for
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| Give me one, I promise I’ll be back for more
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| Most wanna tap and score, I want a fam of four
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| Not like a family of four, just like. |
| fuck it
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| You’ll never listen to this shit anyways, fuck you, bitch
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| She said «You rushing, you rabid son of a Labrador»
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| But I’m attracted to you like teenyboppers to Apple stores
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| The basement light is darkened and the switchblade is sharpened
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| Her name on my arm and her face on a two percent carton
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| See her face while you’re fixing your breakfast
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| And know she’s in my basement, objecting to sex with
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| Me murder spree, surges on with the next bitch
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| Tombstones read RIP cause it’s pieces they rest in |