| She said she knows just how that stress gets
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| When you hungry and you just trying to eat breakfast and nobody feels your
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| message feel
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| Good Enough to wake up and then fall back asleep
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| It’s a bad car to go get involved into like half the shit that I see
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| Plus I feel happier in my dreams, right
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| I spit that shit that give the feeling of the seaside
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| Hungover in Pitts
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| But with the flick of the wrist
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| Yo I can kick shit like this
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| I be as good as it gets
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| Even through armor vices
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| My inner being Rastafarian
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| Always one-hundred three-times you’ll get spartacus
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| What’s with all you knock-offs, and self-conscious narcissists
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| Said I’m an artist bitch, do this shit so artifice
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| In it for the hardships the nonsense of reaping attention
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| Homie rolled up a blessing
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| We in a world with no exits
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| You gotta give me a second
|
| Straighten up and get balanced
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| My homie flipped on a record
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| I beat it up ain’t no challenge
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| I smoke that weed while my grandmother’s scarf comforts me
|
| But you look ugly
|
| And I ain’t ever trippin' bout the lack of company
|
| Cause honestly I’m sitting here alone quite comfortably
|
| Depressed through this dimension
|
| And I think I failed to mention
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| That I feel like I’ve been running outta seconds
|
| Nobody gave a forewarning nor a preface
|
| Following my dreams (let's go) feel like following my death wish
|
| Ayo reach and you slip a backpedal
|
| I do my homework blazed and gets A’s I’m mad mellow
|
| I here the sad fellows get they fix when I spit
|
| Like the sun up in the sky you must protect or you get hit
|
| Sometimes life is full of shit too many damn to-do lists
|
| But yo I learned if you ain’t coolin' you just being foolish
|
| I used to think that i’ma die early, like mid-thirties
|
| But fuck that i’ma rise early, and ride dirty
|
| I reach the crucifix up to my lips and then I kiss it
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| I try to walk with God but got some hoes up in my slippers
|
| And so I keep on slippin'
|
| Get tangled in the mischief
|
| So in a nut-shell I’m just a sinner named Christian
|
| But still they keep me spinnin' when they drinkin' on they lonely
|
| I’m rollin' like Jody, eyes open, got stolen by this music shit
|
| And I don’t think I’m coming back (what that is bro)
|
| Everybody rockin' plaid we look like lumberjacks (straight up)
|
| I smoke that weed while my grandmother’s comforts me
|
| But you look ugly
|
| And I ain’t ever trippin' bout the lack of company
|
| Cause honestly I’m sitting here alone quite comfortably
|
| Depressed through this dimension
|
| And I think I failed to mention
|
| That I feel like I’ve been running outta seconds
|
| Nobody gave a forewarning nor a preface
|
| Following my dreams (let's go) feel like following my death wish
|
| Ayo let it go
|
| Damn, damn
|
| Damn yo
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| Damn |