| 'Sup!
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| I’m smokin'
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| Plan, Plan B is like the worst shit
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| We’re smokin' if it ain’t gas
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| I stay turned up from these raps
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| Hope that chick that be countin' my cash
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| 'Cause I ain’t too good at doin' math
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| What you know about me and my mans
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| Hope to finish safe this new jam
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| Could say Hollywood with no fans
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| Still ain’t Hollywood so let’s jam
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| This my Jam
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| Ridin' solo, I be on my own, yo
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| Feel bad for my ex
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| She see me grindin' like I’m sposed to
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| Really can’t get blamed by shit
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| But livin' out these hotels
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| I could never change my friends
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| How could I ever slow down
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| Baby
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| Gotta get my shit in order
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| Gotta get a flight 'cause she’s hittin' my line
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| And she’s headin' to Lollapalooza
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| And she just my type, took the chick I like
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| And the pick she throw the deuce up
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| Young Fell still get the booze up
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| I swear I’ll go Dr. Dolittle
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| Haircut like a young Medusa, I swear
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| Rocky rolla', Up like pop
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| Gotta keep the toes up, sippin that shot
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| Throw out the top
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| Shoutout to dun duh duh, you don’t wanna
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| Play with the stoney boy you’ll get trouble
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| Man the bays above my blood vessels
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| Move to LA got cold as gun metal
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| Lately I’ve been in and out of dinner with the pressure
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| Found it kind of funny 'cause she couldn’t get no better
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| Stuff a couple hundred in the pockets of my denim
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| Makin' shit up (pop, pop) be on schedule
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| Really want my pieces, peace, and John Lennon
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| Movin' through the streets in premium raw denim
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| Said I wouldn’t do it but I had to do it better
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| Under the influence it’s somethin' in the ghetto
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| Girl it’s Saint Louis and nobody does it better
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| Want to be exclusive but I told her I got hella
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| From the truth
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| Searchin' for that shit
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| Worry 'bout the future, yeah
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| Livin' to passive, like forget right now
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| Gotta think of where I’m goin when I finish
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| All up in your brand new linens
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| I could’ve been a cop killa high up with the sinners
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| I should’ve been a dentist
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| I’m goin' back to Texas
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| Gotta gettin' my shit in order
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| Gotta get my shit in order
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| Gotta get a flight 'cause she’s hittin' my line
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| And she’s headin' to Lollapalooza
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| And she just my type, took the chick I like
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| Yeah, yeah and I fuckin love her
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| So I’ll see you tomorrow
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| Yeah swear Ima see you tomorrow
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| I swear |