Sometimes you get involved with the bad guys
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Sometimes it's what you like
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Sometimes we don't play rhymes
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It's always more than the truth, my friend
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Maybe you're a living legend
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You have just the right amount of options
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Proud son, howling Sunday
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Beating his chest a hundred times
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Sometimes you get involved with the bad guys
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Sometimes it's what you like
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Sometimes we don't play rhymes
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It's always more than the truth, my friend
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Maybe you're a living legend
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You have just the right amount of options
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Proud son, howling Sunday
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Beating his chest a hundred times
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You don't want to compare yourself to us, the music is created here
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Try it live, for a couple of times, the shell will close
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Darkness and respect is lost, rumor has it that the point is not lost
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Be careful not to let your hoe, to my house, slip away from time to time
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Sorry, I don't hang out with you, because I hang out with mine
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I don't strain, I indulge myself, I don't study by heart
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I moved forward, Ypsilon first and her Night I
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I have my community, live drums
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Sometimes you get involved with the bad guys
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Sometimes it's what you like
|
Sometimes we don't play rhymes
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It's always more than the truth my friend
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Maybe you're a living legend
|
You have just the right amount of options
|
Proud son, howling Sunday
|
Beating his chest a hundred times |
Sometimes you get involved with the bad guys
|
Sometimes it's what you like
|
Sometimes we don't play rhymes
|
It's always more than the truth my friend
|
Maybe you're a living legend
|
You have just the right amount of options
|
Proud son, howling Sunday
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Beating his chest a hundred times
|
I'm not playing a plumber, it's the clothes that make the man
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Like, heart, thumbs??? |