| Shaggy the Airhead on the beat
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| That’s right. |
| Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
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| Yo, ninja, give them wicked clowns some eardrums, four minutes dude
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| We got some shit to spit and if you dig it say «fuck that shit too»
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| I’m speakin' on regret and beatin' ourselves up over past mistakes
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| Regrets are bastards, snakes infectin' brains, let’s blast 'em, clean the slates
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| Fuck all that coulda, woulda shoulda, woulda bullshit, you don’t know shit, ho
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| You gots it backwards, would’ve wound up jack worse in a black hearse
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| No regrets, I’m spittin' that, hoes regrets, skippin' the track
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| Regrets are poltergeists to the brain, Satanic attack ()
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| Fuck lookin' back, let’s look ahead, came from wack to fresh instead
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| My life was somethin' to dread, now it’s better than hooker head
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| Real time, (Yeah) baby, no cassette, (Mmm) you can’t rewind or forward shit
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| (Nope)
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| Ain’t no pause to this life of yours but you can always hit eject
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| Now you’re posted at your mama place, roasted, in a china vase
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| With you roasted, she don’t mind the space, a toast to your vagina face
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| Once dead, you can forever look back and sweat what you wanna sweat
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| But while I’m livin' my life alive, I’m screamin' «Fuck regret!» |
| Fuck regret!
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| Choices, we make them, chances, we take them
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| Some are mistakes, some, we celebrate them
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| We don’t look back, 'cause so much we facin'
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| I always stay proud of myself, I’m yelling, «Fuck regret!»
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| Choices, we make them, chances, we take them
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| Some are mistakes, some, we celebrate them
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| We don’t look back, 'cause so much we facin'
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| I always stay proud of myself, I’m yelling, «Fuck regret!»
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| «Man, if I only coulda-» Fuck that shit! |
| You wimp bitch, so what?
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| Make up a hand sign that means «scrub life» and throw that shit the fuck up
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| I got two fat bitches, hippopotamuses, clearin' thirty dishes
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| Who gives a fuck what I be doin', if I made different decisions
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| I bump into good luck on daily, everywhere I go we meet again
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| It’s like the shit’s stalkin' me, hawkin' me, like it need a friend
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| It’s almost scary, very, like we got the same itinerary
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| I said, «What in the fuck? |
| It’s good luck! |
| You again?» |
| He told me, «Call me Larry»
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| So take your crystal balls, superstitions, intuitions, and visions
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| And fuck out my face, unless you want a my-foot-in-your-ass collision
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| I’m sorry, some of the roads I took in life were dead ends
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| And if they fucked you up somehow, kid, that wasn’t my intentions (Nope)
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| If it was, you’d be dead, worms livin' in your bitch-ass butt cheek
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| So if you wanna trip on that shit, I kick your ass to this beat
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| I don’t dwell if anything go wrong, I’m just too strong, I move on
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| Just finished this, spittin' this verse, now my shit already wrote for the next
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| two songs
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| Choices, we make them, chances, we take them
|
| Some are mistakes, some, we celebrate them
|
| We don’t look back, 'cause so much we facin'
|
| I always stay proud of myself, I’m yelling, «Fuck regret!»
|
| Choices, we make them, chances, we take them
|
| Some are mistakes, some, we celebrate them
|
| We don’t look back, 'cause so much we facin'
|
| I always stay proud of myself, I’m yelling, «Fuck regret!»
|
| Fuck regret!
|
| Choices, we make them, chances, we take them
|
| Some are mistakes, some, we celebrate them
|
| We don’t look back, 'cause so much we facin'
|
| I always stay proud of myself, I’m yelling, «Fuck regret!»
|
| Choices, we make them, chances, we take them
|
| Some are mistakes, some, we celebrate them
|
| We don’t look back, 'cause so much we facin'
|
| I always stay proud of myself, I’m yelling, «Fuck regret!» |