| As a child I would dream about it
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| Sometimes it wake me from my sleep and I would think about it
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| Making music was all that could keep me off these streets
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| I don’t know where I’d actually be without it, but think about it
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| I dedicated like twenty years to the goal
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| I still ain’t made a name for myself and it’s getting old
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| How many more words can I enter into this phone
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| Without running out of topics and dropping interesting «es
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| I know people around the globe is wishing that they had a chance
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| To get they hands on that advance that I just passed up
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| Hit the road and have at least two-hundred people at every show
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| Smoking until I choke, that sounds mad fun
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| And being able to pay my bills is a plus
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| But money I be spending for promos is twice as much
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| Not to mention if you get in to the club with all these other rappers then you
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| gotta have the nicest stuff
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| So fuck it, man, I’m drinking 'til I’m blacking out
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| They know me around the city for acting out
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| My dad visited for the weekend, he got a taste
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| And left a day early, hit me with a text, «what's that about?»
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| I told him, «it's okay, it’s not a problem»
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| But everyone around me seem to think that I can’t stop it
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| But yet they always wanna go out on my tab, they jobless
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| And they looking for a way to get it popping
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| So I got them, I start chilling with my old friends
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| They all married with good careers
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| Envious of what I’m doing
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| But only if they knew
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| I would trade them for a second and be outta here
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| But I’m too addicted to this music
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| And I got eight siblings that I never see
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| In a room I never leave
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| Stuck on my computer watching other niggas catch some speed
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| All they songs is extra weak, confusion steady stressing me
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| Running out of patience, let the journey get the best of me
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| Thought I had the recipe, so I followed every step
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| Left my girl and moved away, I know she happy I left
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| Lil bro is all alone, mama need a bigger check
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| All my niggas falling off, I’m still tryna be the best
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| Locked myself inside this booth, started making hella tracks
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| Cry myself to sleep at night, swear I been to hell and back
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| Loaded up that gun I bought, withdrew everything I had
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| Put it all in envelopes, had it sitting in my hand
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| Wrote my mama letter, and apologized for suicide
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| I been on a mission that they talk about but few will try
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| Had my finger on the trigger, would have left it all behind
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| And lyrics popped into my head, maybe music saved my life
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| Maybe music saved my life
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| Maybe music saved my life
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| Maybe music saved my life
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| Yeah, maybe music saved my life |