| 5 PM, we stepping out the door
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| To the kitchen, super slipping if it’s raw
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| Dine till you shine or grind
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| 'Cause team hungry eat the beans up off the floor
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| Esteem from the core, or steam from the kettle
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| Picking petals till it’s three clovers, slip 'em in the door
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| I let the system stay persistent, couple inches from the shore
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| Water through my shoes, so we kick it at the porch
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| While the stickers in the window of the drop down Porsche
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| But the only drop top is the bottom of my jaw
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| Stuck in between a mountain and a fountain
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| See the youth drown out the shouting with a verse and upward counting
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| Hungry for the bounty cause the money equals something
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| Sucker, fucker, motherfucker think he found me
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| Sun setting on the county, but I’m 05, no type
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| From a place you’ve never been, so how you gone profile?
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| Damn, city think I need a cosign
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| A pity y’all ain’t digging ya boy sitting on a gold mine
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| So Imma hope the next flight yeah yeah
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| Go forward 6 months, 2 weeks and 1 night
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| 'Cause at the end of the week the sun still shine
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| And my mind stays mine for 7 nights, I’m sweet
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| Shit, so grab a fucking CD
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| Hit track 3, uh, and let that motherfucker bleed
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| Wassup |