| I was born runnin' with the baton
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| Now I’m known as the young intellectual don
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| Until I’m gone, where I’m from, the real don’t get along
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| With the fake, look me in the face, eyes of the storm
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| You don’t want none
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| No beef could never hurt me
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| I be on my Istanbul, they cold turkey
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| Firstly, it’s the double entendre monster
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| Takin' haunted constant trips through your conscious
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| So be cautious
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| If it call for it, we leavin' corpses
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| The causes of the coffin is the broken clauses
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| Skeletons in my closet, tomorrow’s never promised
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| Never mind it because we immortals regardless
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| Real G’s move in silence like my designer
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| Intertwined with the timeless, divine higher powered
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| I was drippin' in the gold since a minor
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| Sittin' on my throne, overlookin' my empire, uh, uh
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| Resurrection of real, you niggas fake
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| Never second-guessin' my kill, so choose your fate
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| 'Cause I’m born runnin' with the baton, a tickin' time bomb
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| Nigga, better ring the alarm, uh
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| Resurrection of real, you niggas fake
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| Never second-guessin' my kill, so choose your fate
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| 'Cause I’m born runnin' with the baton, a tickin' time bomb
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| Nigga, better ring the alarm, uh
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| So keep it spinnin', disc jocker
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| Flick the wrist, don’t risk that, partner
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| These niggas impostors, we movin' like the mobsters
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| One false move, have 'em sleepin' with the lobsters, huh
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| So keep it spinnin', disc jocker
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| Flick the wrist, don’t risk that, partner
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| These niggas impostors, we movin' like the mobsters
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| One false move, have 'em sleepin' with the…
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| It’s the ALL-AMERIKKKAN BADA$$
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| Who you mad at? |
| They ain’t have to ask that
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| Attack with the backlash, where’s my cash at?
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| Runnin' all through NASDAQ, strap in my backpack
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| Goin' off the knack, dopeboy in the Cadilac
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| Havin' flashbacks, wish a nigga would clap back
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| Hit 'em with the blackjack, goin' through a stack fast
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| I snap with the raps, I make 'em bring the whole track back
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| Niggas get smacked with the realer
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| When I drop, it’s all killer, no filler
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| So you better not make a wrong move, nigga
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| I’ll personally deliver each shot that won’t miss ya
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| And when it hit ya, it’s no warnin'
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| We bombardin', me and my squadron
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| If you want it, get your army
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| We droppin' bombs calmly
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| This is no party
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| Any scraps left, we just feed 'em to the zombies
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| Death before dishonor, I die for my brethren
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| This is a stick-up, ocean’s 47
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| Ring the alarm, if a war yuh wan get in
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| Ring the alarm, if a war yuh wan get in
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| Death before dishonor, I die for my brethren
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| This is a stick-up, ocean’s 47
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| Ring the alarm, if a war yuh wan get in
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| Ring the alarm, if a war yuh wan get in
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| Ring the alarm, we ain’t keepin' it calm
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| Need a reason to see the dog, break the leash and I’m on
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| Was hungry when I started, more ravenous as I evolve
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| Caution hazardous, inflictin' damages, I can’t recall, uh
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| Rich in spirit when I broke some laws
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| I’m breakin' even with my Pros against all the odds
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| Made my words cut deep, you gon' need some gauze
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| And that alcohol, we only goin' bar for bar
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| You know I blacked out, they bring the track out, I lay the smack down
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| Remember nights on the dirty mattress in the trap house?
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| I snapped out and flipped it around to where I’m at now
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| Livin' legend, finally back up on the map now
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| Resurrection of real, let’s bring it back
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| It ain’t even about the bars, they bumpin' whatever slaps now (Uh)
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| All I hear that ad-lib rappin' on my SoundCloud
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| Sick of the trash out, this is the crackdown
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| Likkle bwoy dun backchat we’ll bury ya
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| Big metal ting, ya get capped in AmeriKKKa
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| Beast Coast regime (La Cosa Nostra)
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| My team supreme (Fuck around and smoke ya)
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| Death before dishonor, I die for my brethren
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| This is a stick-up, ocean’s 47
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| Ring the alarm, if a war yuh wan get in
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| Ring the alarm, if a war yuh wan get in
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| Ring the alarm
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| Ring the alarm
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| Ring the alarm
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| Ring the alarm |