| Baby girl, I just hope
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| When I grow up I can know the ropes
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| Ain’t never selling my soul
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| Guess we won’t know until we know
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| So all I can do is hope, hope, hope
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| All I can do is hope
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| When I die leave a note
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| Until then I just hope, hope
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| I’m about to switch it on you all
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| My shoes are bleeding with the blood of Martin Luther King
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| These ain’t no Louboutin, this is for Tuff Gong
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| This is for activists riding in Teflon with a bulletproof vest on
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| This is for MSFTS who know that I’m serious
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| This is for all the delirious kids
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| Who can live inside a prison pyramid
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| There’s kids in prison, are you hearing this?
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| Believe me, this not a conspiracy
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| I don’t label myself a conspiracist, I need a therapist
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| Look, Fahrenheit 451
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| Building Seven wasn’t hit and there’s more shit to come
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| The Pentagon is on a run
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| I just hope I go to Heaven when this shit is done
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| Business is business, I get it
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| I’m just wishing all these prisons was not independent
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| Lobbyists are in the senate, lobbying to make it obvious
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| Innocent people are prosecuted for a living
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| I talked to Juda in my vision, your bullshit is done
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| I’ll be Martin Luther in a minute
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| Once all the products in the kitchen
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| Why do you even get passionate when you be spitting?
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| You know they don’t even listen
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| They care about YSL for life and putting lean up in their fridges
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| And wearing crosses like they’re Christian
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| We’re playing chess and I’m the bishop
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| I’ve just ran out of ammunition baby but I’m still on a mission
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| Your verses sound like dirty dishes and that’s just a joke
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| Well baby all I do is hope
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| Baby all I do is hope
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| I’m never selling my soul
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| Yeah we won’t know until we know
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| Baby all I do is hope, hope, hope
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| Baby all I do is hope
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| When I grow up, I can know the ropes
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| And I’m never selling my soul, no, no, no, no, no, no
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| And I’m never selling my soul, no, no, no, no, no, no
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| No, no, no, no, no, no
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| Selling my soul, no, no, no, no, no, no
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| No, no, no, no, no, no, ay, ay
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| I’m never selling my soul, no
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| Never, selling my soul, no, no, no
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| Gloomy, gloomy days in Calabasas
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| City’s on the maps and now it’s hella ratchets
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| MSFTS soldier with my stripes and badges
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| Shouldn’t plug the clique, but that’s just automatic
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| Got her number there, well what’s her name?
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| Never hit her up, but I’m so glad to have it
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| In case a lonely day she’ll fall upon me
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| I can make a call and we can share some magic
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| Got a psychopathic flow, I’m scared of snapping
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| Hit them in the back and they don’t know what happened
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| So subliminal that they didn’t know
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| Smooth Criminal, call me Michael Jackson
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| I would die for this, a suicidal passion
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| You and I were simply too aloud to have had it
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| Girl, my ego had to die, ego had to fly
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| I’m just really glad this room is padded
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| Because I’m going harder than a runningback
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| Once I get it all, I ain’t coming back
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| Girl I guess we’ll never talk again
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| Well I didn’t know that you wanted that
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| Could’ve left you with them other kids
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| Would’ve helped us with a lot of suffering
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| Now I’m hanging out with mutual friends
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| And they just do a lot of wandering
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| You want the comma, comma, comma, comma
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| I ain’t want the drama, drama, drama, drama
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| Take you anywhere in the world you wanna go
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| Baby you’re my pseudo baby mama
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| Me and you a gang, gang, gang, gang
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| No bandana, that’s no problem
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| Feeling cooler than a fanna'
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| Run through where you wanna baby
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| Fur slips through the lobby
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| I can feel your body
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| Laying right beside me
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| Fur slips through the lobby
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| Girl I swear you got me
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| I can feel your body
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| I can feel your real side of you
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| I feel your soul
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| Kiss me through the grills
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| Go where we go we know, we know
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| Know, we know, we know
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| Hey, Syre, who is she?
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| So, do you party much? |