| Wooah
|
| Oooh
|
| Wooah
|
| (Guess what)
|
| People tell me I’m just like my daddy
|
| People tell me I’m just like my daddy
|
| People tell me I’m just like my daddy
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| My daddy
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| Cause I lie like I’m lying on a rug
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| Get my hands a lil dirty, no gloves
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| Everybody welcome to the gun show
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| And it go
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| Everybody duck down
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| It’s hard to love the devil, he’s a hater
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| A dirty hypocrite, manipulator
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| Made a mama lose her kids
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| Let her go away for seventeen years
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| Not allowed to shed a tear
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| Growing up with all your, phobic fears
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| But people tell me I’m just like my daddy
|
| People tell me I’m just like my daddy
|
| People tell me I’m just like my daddy
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| Oh really, hell nah (no way, no way)
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| Cause I lie like I’m lying on a rug
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| Did some crime even wore some black gloves
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| Everybody welcome to the gun show
|
| And we go (daddy)
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| Everybody duck down
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| You reek of royalty, a dangerous mix
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| You sing of loyalty, but you the snitchin ass bitch
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| I tried to play it cool
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| Funny what the people do for
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| Money power and the fame
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| I’d call ya Mr. Lyon
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| If I did I would be lyin'
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| Cause that ain’t even your name
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| But people tell me I’m just like my daddy
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| People tell me I’m just like my daddy
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| They all say that you look just like your daddy |