| Are you doin' this work to facilitate growth or to become famous?
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| Which is more important?
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| Getting or letting go?
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| You can do anything, anything you can do (You can do anything)
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| You can do anything, anything you can do (You can do anything)
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| Everything come back around full circle
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| Why do lies sound pleasant, but the truth hurtful?
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| Everybody gotta cry once in a while
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| But how long will it take 'fore you smile?
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| This is that come-back-to-life shit
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| My niggas pick me up and we gon' light the city up as if the sun had the night shift
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| And paint the town red for my nigga found dead too soon (Bitch, I'm back out...)
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| Yeah
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| To the left of that decimal, I need seven figures to play the joint
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| Turn up your decibels, peep how I decimate a joint
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| Check out my projects like them workers that Section 8 appoints
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| And you'll see how I flipped like exclamation points
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| My niggas shoot first as if they never played the point, more two guards
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| Enough straps to fill four U-Hauls
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| More death than World War II caused
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| Around these parts we pour the brown just to drown these thoughts
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| Of black corpses in county morgues, Lord, those images hauntin'
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| I ain't been asleep yet, it's ten in the mornin'
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| I'm sendin' a warnin', a problem with me is like the BET Hip-Hop Awards
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| I'm startin' to see you niggas don't want it
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| I'm sick of this flauntin', from niggas I know for sure ain't got mo' dough than Cole
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| Trash rappers, ass backwards, tryna go toe-to-toe
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| We laugh at ya, staff strapped up on top the totem pole to blast at ya
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| Bassmasters, look how they tote a pole
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| Gotta know the ropes and the protocol
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| Or they gon' for sure blow your clothes half off like a promo code
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| Made a lil' tune called "Foldin Clothes," and a nigga still ain't known to fold under pressure
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| Well, you know what Cole do
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| Make a diamond, they just rhymin', me, I'm quotin' gold
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| One phone call get you canceled like a homophobe in this PC culture
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| Address me as the G.O.A.T. |
| like they call Chief Keef Sosa
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| In my sectional like a fuckin' three-piece sofa
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| I'm known as the chosen one
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| Another dead body lay frozen, that's how it go sometimes
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| When niggas weighin' coke and not the pros and cons
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| Well, I ain't with that sleepin' underground like a gopher, so I go for mines
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| Everything come back around full circle (Nigga, gotta go for mines)
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| Why do lies sound pleasant, but the truth hurtful? |
| (Yeah)
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| Everybody gotta cry once in a while
|
| But how long will it take 'fore you smile?
|
| This is that come-back-to-life shit
|
| My niggas pick me up and we gon' light the city up as if the sun had the night shift
|
| And paint the town red for my nigga found dead too soon
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| Now I know why they call it blue moon (Yeah)
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| Survival at all costs, every day, niggas get logged off
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| Bodies get hauled off
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| Passin' a funeral procession while holdin' my breath in the car, I thought
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| At times, it be feelin' the devil be winnin' but do that mean God lost?
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| Just got off the phone with my nigga, he back in the kennel, my dog lost
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| I brought him 'round close to me before but he
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| Became addicted to clout and all the hoes we'd meet
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| I slowly peeped jealousy on his breath whenever he spoke to me
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| Like on the low, he feelin' that in my shoes is where he supposed to be
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| I tried to ignore the signs, but they're in the back of my mind
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| It felt like lettin' a nigga come sleep on your couch and he eatin' up all yo' groceries
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| My nigga repeated this quote to me, I felt its potency
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| Said, "Most of these niggas gon' hang themselves, just give 'em the rope and see"
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| Shit, I heeded that, and what got showed to me
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| Was screamin' that, some niggas, you gotta leave 'em back
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| Unfortunately we seen the trap
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| Niggas be on that demon clock resultantly
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| They fiend to clap as often as the Genius app misquotin' me, uh
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| Meanwhile, I see that yo' diamonds is glistenin'
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| I'm glad that you shinin', but need I remind you my niggas is dimin' and nickelin'?
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| Scrapin' up whatever coin they can find, the pettiest crime, they committin' it
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| Just to get by for a limited time, the steepest of mountains, they tryin' to climb
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| I'm here tryna find the derivative, you niggas don't feel me |
| You see the clout, you don't see the real me
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| If I was sick, you niggas wouldn't heal me
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| Therefore I'm healin' myself, gettin' in tune with my God
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| Slowly revealin' myself, buildin' my wealth
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| A nigga touch mine, I'ma kill 'em myself, trust me
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| Everything come back around full circle
|
| Why do lies sound pleasant, but the truth hurtful?
|
| Everybody gotta cry once in a while
|
| But how long will it take 'fore you smile?
|
| This is that come-back-to-life shit
|
| My niggas pick me up and we gon' light the city up as if the sun had the night shift
|
| And paint the town red for my nigga found dead too soon
|
| Now I know why they call it blue moon (Yeah)
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| Bitch, I'm back outside, nigga
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| I'm back outside
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| I'm back outside
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| Bitch, I'm back outside
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| Everybody mentions suicide prevention
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| Man, they even made a hotline
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| To call up when there's tension, but I got a question
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| What about a fuckin' homicide?
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| Need a number for my niggas to call
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| Whenever there's a urge to get triggers involved
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| Need a number for my niggas to call
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| Whenever there's a urge to get triggers involved |