| Yo', uh, uh, uh,
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| yeah, uh-huh,
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| yeah, uh… uh, yo'.
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| VERSE ONE
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| I’m sick and tired of writing even though I love releasing music,
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| standing in front of a mic like I’m clueless,
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| cos I did everything I came to do, said everything I came to say,
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| be everything I came to be, changed everything I came to change,
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| I spent so much time in the game and did more than I dreamed to do,
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| I took everything that I felt, made people say I’m feeling you,
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| that’s a wonderful feeling too,
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| but every single book has a last page,
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| whether you read it slowly or you skim at a fast pace,
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| the start of my career had me like I was backstage,
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| waiting to get the microphone and go on a rampage,
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| that’s why I dropped an album after album for mad days,
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| mad weeks, mad months, mad years (yeah)
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| and there were times when I felt like I’m stuck in a bad place,
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| the poison of the music industry is like rat bait,
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| the kinda business that can make you fall out with classmates,
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| turn you to a recluse and make you live in a Bat Cave,
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| fortunately for me I kept on praying and had faith,
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| so me and Stixx and Parris came together with bad breaks,
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| embarked upon a journey, signed a deal with this cat Zakes
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| and those are still my brothers and I love em',
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| they family like my cousin Mikey,
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| and when I win, they’re standing right beside me,
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| so I’m never looking behind me,
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| they never looking to find me, no matter the age,
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| every writer will take some joy in completing the last page.
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| Every single book has a last page,
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| every single journey a last stage,
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| every single year has a last day,
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| don’t get it the fast way (yo').
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| VERSE TWO
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| A'-yo' it’s no secret and I think we are in agreement,
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| the music industry’s weak and some artists have no uniqueness,
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| some labels continue thieving, but the fans keep it breathing
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| and they make artists believe in the power of our achievements,
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| so peace to everyone of you showing me adulation,
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| and gave your appreciation, and saw me through graduation,
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| and came to make a donation, played my music on your station,
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| I’m grateful for all your patience, all the praise and elevation,
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| yo' word up to Josh Nathan from the 901
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| and if I ever come to Memphis for the Cooper Young Festival,
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| I hope to see you in the future son!
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| professional in my approach at every step of the way,
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| plus the devotion I gave, and the emotion, I’m brave,
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| I’m no promotional slave, and there’s no Trojan I crave,
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| they say I’m criminally underrated, maybe that’s an understatement,
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| all I know is there could never be a genuine replacement
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| for my contribution and the people that I kept engaged with
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| all the music that I made and all the music that they played,
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| and there will always come a time when everyone must turn a page,
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| and see what’s on the other side, and move into another stage,
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| now I’m looking in the mirror and checking my face,
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| buttoning my shirt, put my shoes on, tying the lace,
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| heading to the door, I’m gonna live my next moment,
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| but I’ll never close it, I’m leaving that fucka' wide open… |