| You so selfish
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| I don’t really care what the say about me
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| 'Symptoms of Insanity' no 'Therapy'
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| H-U-S-T-L-E-R, Hustla
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| Up in Detroit, yeah we all hustlas
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| Pushin' the product, connected by the narcotics
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| Hella melodic when NATAS drop it, I got it
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| 30,000 feet out in the air, I parachute on ya streets
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| I’m greetin' bustas wit' the heat
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| And you can see me clearly like a DVD
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| When I beat on your ass like a MPC
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| I’m twistin' bitches up like the dreads on a Rasta
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| I’m gunnin' atchu rappers 'cuz you just an imposta
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| Switch this, bitch this, nigga out right fast
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| Then I hit his hoe ass wit' the mini mac blast
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| I don’t give a fuck about a 'Record Deal'
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| I’m still through these streets like-a Kill, Kill, Kill
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| The fetus, believe dis when I bust atcha Jesus
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| I’ll take you to the dark side wit' the quickness
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| Sickness to ya health, take all of ya wealth
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| I’m comin' undetected like a muthafuckin' Stealth
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| Bomba, I’ma harda rhyma
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| Pushin' the dime-a, Chrysla
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| 100,000 was the price-a
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| While you still crappin' out on the Dice-a
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| My style gets nice-a and nice-a
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| The blood riser, open ya eyes Sir
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| And realize you don’t wanna be in my’sa
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| You so selfish
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| You out here breakin' all the rules like Ebenezer Scrooge
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| 'Cuz a — You so selfish
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| (I don’t really care what they say about me
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| 'Symptoms of Insanity' no 'Therapy')
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| Gotta roll, gotta hold ya own stack
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| Gotta watch ya own back
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| And if ya runnin' up on me homey, bound to get blown back
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| I’m in ya zone wit' the chrome gat but you shoulda known that
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| I’m from the east side where all the birds have homes
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| And for self, after years I got no help
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| Tremendous, the bad times, they seemed endless
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| I spin this bottle, I mash this throttle
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| I don’t give a fuck, still that’s my motto
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| I keep this ammo to burn like a candle
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| 'Cuz I’m too cold to hold, too hot to be handled
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| I dismantled every mic I touch, so realize why I don’t give a fuck
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| I’ll open ya up, watch me, can’t stop me
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| Wanna' pop me 'cuz he copy
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| And I’m killin' all you wack ass rappers that’s sloppy
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| And bitin', rewritin', refightin' 'Clash of the Titans'
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| When I see you I’m strikin', you feelin' lightning
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| No remorse of course for the Pale White Horse
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| Make 'em all feel the force when I come for yours
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| Kickin' down ya doors, world hood wars
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| To even the score, make all devils pray to the Lord
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| To scheme like a demon, you can’t really afford
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| When the police lights come on, the cameras record
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| All this time ya thinkin' ya shoulda detoured
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| But ya at the sea shore witcha man overboard
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| And a…
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| You. |
| so. |
| selfish. |