| It’s eight a.m. I roll out my silk sheets
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| Get fly crash the limo back seats
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| Lookin' in the faces of some ladies that I never met
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| On the interview tip, no sweat
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| They ask me questions, I throw the words back
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| They say they write facts, I know that’s bull crap
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| They’re kickin' drama but then drama’s my middle name
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| That’s the price ya pay for big fame
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| The cellular phone rings
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| Don’t wanta pick it up
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| But it’s my J-O-B I gotta kick it up
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| Another damn reporter
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| On the line with a word quiz
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| I gotta show cause I’m livin' in showbiz
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| Out the limo, to the plane, in the pourin' rain
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| I hate flyin' but there’s no time for slow trains
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| Another show to do, I gotta catch my crew
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| They left last night in the bus around two
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| The plane’s a small one
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| No fun at all
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| Bouncin' round the air like a tennis ball
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| When it touches down i wanna kiss the ground
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| But it’s time to wreck a new town
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| Get to the arena, meet up with the crew
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| They tell me all the speakers blew
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| The cordless don’t work
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| Sound man’s a jerk
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| Somebody’s gonna get hurt
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| I’m crazy mad but my fans want autographs
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| I turn my angry frowns into fake laughs
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| I can’t be rude 'cause they wouldn’t understand
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| I ain’t human no more, I’m a superman
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| You can try
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| But you’ll never understand this
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| You can try
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| But you’ll never understand this
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| You can try
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| But you’ll never understand this
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| The lifestyles of the rich and infamous
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| Four hours 'til show time oh well
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| I might as well check in the hotel
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| Get a little rest before it’s time for us to play
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| Ten brothers standin' in the hallway
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| All with demo tapes, they need the hook up
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| They heard that I was the one to look up
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| I can’t ditch 'em
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| Cause they already saw me
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| I’ll put my head down
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| Maybe they’ll ignore me
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| No chance «Ice what’s goin' on?»
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| I listened to twenty-five songs
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| And after that the brothers still wouldn’t leave
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| They started lookin' at my T. V
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| I was gonna break down if they didn’t jet soon
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| Snuck across the hall and crashed in E’s room
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| But then this freak came in, thought I was E
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| Straddled her legs across me
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| Ripped off her blouse
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| Pushed her breast against my face
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| Started gyrating her waist
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| Sounds fly, like a hype sex thriller?
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| But see, she looked like Godzilla
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| Pushed her off me, homegirl hit the floor
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| This is what it’s like on tour
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| I hit the hallway it was crawlin' thick
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| «Could weez take ya picture real quick?»
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| Jumped into a pose that I used a million times before
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| Took pictures with the whole damn floor
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| I couldn’t say no, not to my fans
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| You see, they wouldn’t understand
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| Now it’s show time, «time to flow» time
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| «Evil lost the records but we still gotta go» time
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| The house is packed, everybody’s on their feet
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| So I say, «Throw on Rakim’s beat.»
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| E hits the fader and the crowd is lit
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| I start bustin' off some new shit
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| The stage is so smokey that I almost fall off
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| I start inhalin' it, I’m tryin' not to cough
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| I’m catchin' problems from every angle
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| The mic cords are tangled
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| I try to flow smooth but my words are mangled
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| Damn near slipped and broke my ankle
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| If that ain’t enough the police are hawkin'
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| Listenin' real close to the words I’m talkin'
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| They wanna put a brother like me in the back seat
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| Just because I curse the beat
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| They wanna tap my phone, wanna keep my crib bugged
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| Call all my homies felons and street thugs
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| You might say i think this lifestyle sucks?
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| I wouldn’t trade it for a million bucks
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| Although it’s all not glamour and gleam
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| It’s still my dream |