| It’s easy to look at my life and don’t see no pain
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| I remember takin 3, 4 trains to re cocaine
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| Standing in the lobby during sleet, snow, rain
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| Waiting for fiends with a pint of beef lomain
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| Breaking day on the grind, I used to be so drained
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| But ain’t a Saturday I wasn’t up to see Soul Train
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| Sometimes I ain’t see no gain
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| Cause I was runnin to Ralphies everytime my trees showed stains
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| I was lucky I ain’t seized or maim
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| Get shot or stuck up standin at them cee-lo games
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| But now shit with these skios changed
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| I ain’t know why the fuck they used to look at me so strange
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| Glanced at my neck and didn’t see no chain
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| Be saying «That's nasty,» wouldn’t give me no brain
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| Y’all surprised F-A-B-O's sane
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| In my road to life I done jumped in and outta 3, 4 lanes
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| I’m still here
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| My momma used to tell me
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| «Son, you’re gonna make it one day, it’ll happen»
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| Who knew I had what it takes to be famous
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| And one day I’d be rappin' though
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| My papa used to ask me «Son, are you prepared?
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| 'Cause one day it could happen»
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| I dreamed about this game, but who would’ve believed
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| That one day I’d be trapped in dough
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| I just want some peace of mind
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| Niggas will risk havin cuffs on their wrists
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| For this masterpiece on mine
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| Know that I’m a squeeze until the top of my piece recline
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| I can’t see myself in back of a Caprice confined
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| But on a small island, too far for police to find
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| With girls who look 'Rican and Guyanese combined
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| I gotta make sure my niece is fine
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| She get every doll for Christmas, new Jordans at Easter-Time
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| Some be like «At least you signed»
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| But that just make is easy to get pointed out at precinct lines
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| All ya’ll can see if every piece be dime
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| And I be gettin Nikes before they even get released sometime
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| Youngsters, don’t let these videos geese your mind
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| It ain’t cool to end up deceased for shine
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| And if you can’t get the whole pot, just take a piece and grind
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| Hold your head, your stress will cease in time
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| My momma used to tell me
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| «Son, you’re gonna make it one day, it’ll happen»
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| Who knew I had what it takes to be famous
|
| And one day I’d be rappin' though
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| My papa used to ask me «Son, are you prepared?
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| 'Cause one day it could happen»
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| I dreamed about this game, but who would’ve believed
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| That one day I’d be trapped in dough
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| Sometimes I wish I could go way back when
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| I could walk thru and ain’t nobody know Jay Jackson
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| Everything was OK back then
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| Now everybody playin a cool role and I know they actin
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| I gotta go back through my ol' way packin
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| These wolves know my jewels is filled with O’Shea Jacksons
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| I don’t care as long as my dough stay stackin
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| But these niggas with me be eager to show they Mack 10s
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| And I’m the one the PO’s stay trackin
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| Plus I got all these ducks around the ol' way quackin
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| These hoes may crack grins
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| But I swear to God I won’t never take O. J's actions
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| If I would’ve let this flow stay packed in
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| I’d probably be with Nick and 'Rome, spending my whole day shacked in
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| For now I just roll on those eight Jacksons
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| 'til Clue and Duro brings those gray plaques in
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| Yeah
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| My momma used to tell me
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| «Son, you’re gonna make it one day, it’ll happen»
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| Who knew I had what it takes to be famous
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| And one day I’d be rappin' though
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| My papa used to ask me «Son, are you prepared?
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| 'Cause one day it could happen»
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| I dreamed about this game, but who would’ve believed
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| That one day I’d be trapped in dough
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| One day it’ll happen
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| That one day I’d be rappin
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| No
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| One day it could happen
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| One day I’d be trapped in
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| No |