| Yo yo yo yo, yo
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| Turn my mic up some. |
| turn my mic up some.
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| Turn my mic, check check, check, turn my mic up some
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| Almighty, uhh.
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| Lord forgive me now
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| This be the best way I know how, to get this out
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| I can’t sing so I have to bounce
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| Even though, that’s not what my style’s about
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| I hate this world, sometimes it gets me
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| When family and friends are not friendly
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| I just don’t get it — so I sit home
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| In the bassment lights low on the mic and spit it
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| They plot, to get my scratch
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| Not knowin the time to get where I’m at now
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| In my face, like I owe 'em somethin
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| Handout from me, and never did nuttin (word up)
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| They’re mad at me, like I changed
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| It’s hard on me Lord, it’s wreckin my brain
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| Is it me? |
| I know it can’t be
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| So I ask you, please help me, now
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| Sometimes I laugh, tryin to keep from cryin
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| If I was plain out of luck, then tell me who could I trust
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| See I work so hard, just to get ahead
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| If it wasn’t for God, I’d probably be dead
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| Uhh, I laugh when ain’t nuttin funny
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| Meanwhile cats wanna count my money
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| Plan on me, to get jumped or somethin
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| Plot-ting like E’s punk or somethin
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| Feels so strange, how I maintain
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| To last in the game, throughout my fame
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| I’m focused man, the E stay the same
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| Hate when folks call me out my name
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| Damn Lord, heal my body
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| Cause I’m mad enough to kill somebody
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| Even hard to trust my lady
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| Did she lock me down to have my baby?
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| I know she love me — damn it’s nuttin
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| The world’s so corrupt, it got me buggin
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| Uhh, I wanna move away like Nas in Belly
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| Y’all feel me — yo, R. Kelly
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| Huh, yo, huh
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| The game changed, damn I should quit
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| Can’t get respect, without havin a hit
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| Someone somewhere talkin shit
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| Got fake cats in my clique
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| But I deal with the cards that’s dealt
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| Try to make music that’s heartfelt
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| Still doin eighty on the Belt'
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| In the Escalade, with Dolce shades
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| I’ve been paid, now what’s left?
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| I guess, should I stress life or death (huh?)
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| Sometimes I wanna end it all
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| Live at peace, with 'Pac and Smalls
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| Can’t do that, got fam at the crib
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| My moms, my pops, my girl and my kids (uh-huh)
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| . |
| open my eyes
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| So I ask you, please help me, now |