| This right here is not a preview
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| I need to let it go, yeah
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| Now this right here is not a preview
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| Of what the album goin’to bring you, or nothing like that
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| Sharing things I think quietly, with those that admire me Remember MTV Diaries? |
| This something like that
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| I wear my heart up on my sleeve, and I, bleed for you
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| Cookin’beats hoping’to reach like (?) warned you
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| When I release, trust if you think my shit is weak
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| When you see me on the street, then speak, I refund you
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| This sample was yellin'"loop me!", Ms. Hill please don’t sue me Cause I ain’t one of these rappers out here frontin’like he got it, nigga
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| I ain’t fuckin’got it, nigga…
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| Throwing thousands in the strip club with Drizzy
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| Difference is I’m through four, he’s throwing fifty
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| Lord, forgive me Bitches saying, «you a rappin’nigga, ain’t you s’pose to tip more?»
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| I don’t see no pussy, baby, ain’t you s’pose to strip more?
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| Confessions of a cheap-ass nigga,
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| But I finally put my Momma in that E class, nigga
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| And I told her quit her job,
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| Oh, hold your horses,
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| If my next album flops it’s back to the post office
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| Both of us, shit
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| They’re saying that’s a real possibility…
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| The thought alone is killing me…
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| I think I need to let it go
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| I need to let it go Cause nothing even matters…
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| Anticipating rain, I can’t make the same mistakes again
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| Them 90's niggas raped the game
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| And left us with a battered and bruised bitch, with a few kids
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| The pussy loose, but the truth is I love her, though
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| She ain’t perfect, but who is?
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| Hoes saying «Cole, you is"don't be silly, ma Cause really I am just a born sinner the opposite of a winner
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| Cole summer, I predict another winter
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| Cause I’m finna, drop knowledge like a five-per-center
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| Fuck the build-a-bird, niggas showing God sent ya Rhyme with the skill, as if Nas when to College on scholarship met 'pac and said „I'm down with ya!“
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| And when the wasn’t writing rhymes they fucking lined sisters
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| Puffin’on swishers, what’s up Milan?
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| Everytime I drop I get the net poppin’like Lebron swishes
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| Kay told me kill ya, and I gotta respect my Mom’s wishes
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| When I let go this how my mind switches
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| No looking back, don’t even want to see my prom pictures
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| Pardon the rhyme scheme, I guess I’m long winded
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| Let me switch it now,
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| Back to Hell’s kitchen now,
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| Up in Hova office like, he’s the fucking principal
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| Put me in with Stargate, that shit was like detention now
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| Just tellin’my story so dissin’ain’t my intention now
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| Drop a couple hits and all the dumbies pay attention now
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| A shame when you learn the ins and outs of the game
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| Reminisce on little Jermaine, in the south
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| Rappin’out loud, with all the niggas that’s cool to you
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| Just to realize that all them niggas was foolin’you
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| And they ain’t who they said they was
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| Talk about the streets but, nigga
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| That ain’t really where they was
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| Acting just like there they were
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| But who am I to judge?
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| That’s neither here or there
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| Just know I know, my nigga
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| I just like being aware
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| If I had one wish, I would fuck Tia and Tamera,
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| At the same time, and put name tags on they titties so I don’t get they name
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| wrong
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| Screamin'"Game on»
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| Like Wayne’s World, that just came on
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| I’m rambling now
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| 5 days to finish the album, I’m scramblin’now
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| Took a break from sampling now,
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| Just to say a few words to this bitch named Summer
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| June will make four years since I gave you my number
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| «The Warm Up"dropped, I got hot, you called it a classic
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| And Jay dropped «Autotune», you wanted him back, shit
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| Play my position, the whole while still wishin'
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| A year later Drake put his key in your ignition
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| And I told my fellas,
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| I dropped «Friday Night Lights"in the winter just to make her jealous,
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| Wanted to drop the album in the summer but the label didn’t think that they
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| could sell it,
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| Recoup the first week, I think it ain’t shit they can tell us Do you agree?
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| It’s been a long time coming this thing between you and me…
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| I can’t let it go…
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| June 25th. |
| Born Sinner. |
| Bitch. |