Success is born in pain, my mother knows that
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They ask: «Gędziula, when will you record something?»
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I'm not in a hurry, because all the time is our time
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I have two discs saved in my notes on my phone
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How I take rap to a workshop
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After each album, half the scene talks like me (trueschool died)
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I'm like a necromancer
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My rap is not a tape, for me it is satisfaction
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This is the godfather of this shit
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They wouldn't exist if I didn't talk to bits
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I is the definition of the word passion, abstract
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I remember today, they told me that it was an abstraction
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I'm flying on a double espresso drunk with a Red Bull with a cup of coffee
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Because you can't make becel yourself, and I don't want to look for discounts
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Don't listen to commands
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I don't borrow style, so I don't pay interest, huh?
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My eyes are tired like a droopie
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Minutes fly by on the records
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In the studio on the loopy loop
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In the hut, notes are still playing for me
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My eyes are tired like a droopie
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Minutes fly by on the records
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In the studio on the loopy loop
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In the hut, notes are still playing for me
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Who had this tune for a kid, autotune for a kid
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How all your newschool was scraping its knees on all fours
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Suddenly, the old school wants to fraternize |
And fly on tickers, although they themselves issued a ban on it
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Or what? |
Daddy is over? |
Or what? |
Running out of stock?
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The White has already explained you, blaka blaka blaka
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You have to think, invest and turn
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Sorry, I'm jumping around topics
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Don't ask me if what you do pays off
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My friend, now I have a smorgasbord like Zlatan
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When the route is being prepared, you call Tobiasz
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If you look at the dates, I've been working on it for years
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No, I'm making an album soon, I'll be right back
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And after the concert with Sebek, I pull down the clouds like a skyscraper
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I fly as raw as a tartare
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BOR is not a career office, rap is not a job for us, but...
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My eyes are tired like a droopie
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Minutes fly by on the records
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In the studio on the loopy loop
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In the hut, notes are still playing for me
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My eyes are tired like a droopie
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Minutes fly by on the records
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In the studio on the loopy loop
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In the hut, notes are still playing for me |