| It’s never leave some weed on the table with a stranger
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| Shit, I can barely even trust my friends
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| Maybe with my lady, not trees of the mends
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| I mean really why even should I try and test it socially
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| Catch them in the act and end up having to approach them
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| Entertain the story while it’s testing on my patience
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| Why the f*ck you think I spent this money on surveillance
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| While I’m on the other side of Earth without assistance
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| Pitchin' in the night singin' «Evy goes the distance»
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| At home the same shit is goin' on, I don’t miss it
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| It’s a nice place to live, but I wouldn’t wanna visit
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| Never steppin' out the car or on the stage without a purpose
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| Ghost-ride the whip like I’m ghost writing verses
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| Afraid to come and go so I take fame in little doses
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| Director of these photos so the aim remains focused
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| Hold still right there, hold still
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| I ain’t holier than now or tryna even act superior
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| Half the shit I rap about I’m speaking from experience
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| I’m livin' at the beach, about as west as the Earth goes
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| People get deceived, seein' gangsters dressed in surf clothes
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| From earth where they birthin' those flows to set the world off
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| On a wet park bench drinkin' OJ and Smirnoff
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| I seen it through my own three and speak it how I heard it
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| Never tell it how it wasn’t, I only pin that harder
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| I been tourin' constantly, so there’s wear and tear value
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| That merits all the lows to terrace highs and travel
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| Document this madness till the day I come unraveled
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| And retreat to the Matterhorn, baskin' in the castle
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| On some Dennis Leary Asshole, f*ck you pay me shit
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| I’ve come too far to get jacked and and give away the vics
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| So right about now I think it’s ‘bout that time
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| That I’ma let Rev kill while I chill on the rhyme
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| What the f*ck
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| I ain’t speakin' on my businesses in public when concerning deals
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| Steppin' on stage like it’s light-bulbs or turning wheels
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| In spite a couple nights of a thousand that I didn’t kill
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| I still kept it peelin' out and steppin' up for Reverend Real
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| Messages across the board are still remaining pinned up
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| The opposite of dilated eyes that I begin with
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| Nothin' is original
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| Even under cloudy days sun is still shining
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| Just rerouted and out of phase
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| Lately when I walk I’ve been trying to hold my posture straight
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| Hold my chin up then feel the love from across the way
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| California love from Diego to across the bay
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| All across the map to every single solitary state
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| All across the baggage claim, all across the gate
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| Some callin' it freight how I’m carrying weight
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| Some callin' it fate while some others remain torn
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| Some callin' it rain cause that’s when I brainstorm |