| Because I like JPEGs
|
| Eh, yeah
|
| Uh
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| Damn, how ya want it then?
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| Industry done let a wolf in a pig pen
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| Big mouth, back it up, why you faking then?
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| And you niggas still ain’t did shit and I’m starting to feel like Zimmerman
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| Not fly, trap a star, strip a wing from him
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| Back in the city, you a pot that I’m pissing in
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| Ooh, somebody pray for this dweeb (Pray for 'em)
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| Some niggas die tryna make a-mends
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| They gon' find your bitchass face down
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| You want this nigga? |
| I’ll be that (Yeah)
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| In the grave I’ma be where your seed at
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| You still ain’t ran this fade
|
| And you know that I’m still with that nonsense
|
| Leave lil bitch in the field with no options
|
| But you stay on my mind everyday, huh
|
| Yeah, it’s no secret
|
| Crown heavy on my head but I keep it (Yeah, yah)
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| In the grave like Pa, I’m hated
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| Amazon’s fresh at your door, bring the beef in
|
| You still ain’t ran no fade
|
| How the fuck am I still on your conscience
|
| Know my enemies sick of this taunting
|
| But you stay on my mind every day, yeah, for real
|
| Uh, when it’s cold outside, get up in the office
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| Dead niggas steam better, lemme pick a coffin (Sure)
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| My main bitch wanna get hit but I ain’t Steve Austin
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| When I die, bury me next to Scott Hall (Sheesh)
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| And bottles sharpening my edges, I’m an alcoholic
|
| Gotta keep my hairline on Candace Owens, Kevin Owens (Uh)
|
| Real nigga, fuck a token, melatonin
|
| Niggas sleepin' on the moment (B-bap!)
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| Apnea, late night with the Glock loaded
|
| Joe Budden with the pump when I aim, focus
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| Nigga, how ya never miss when the whole world is hopeless? |
| (Huh)
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| Joe Biden, can’t remember, think I gotta focus
|
| I be going
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| Speed through the tolls, my bitch consoling
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| All these writers getting fired feel like James Comey
|
| Nigga, fuck a interview, you better know it’s on me
|
| And I don’t trust these nigga’s views, I gotta kill 'em calmly
|
| Catch a nigga in the lobby, hit 'em with the Olly (Yeah)
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| And I’m fucking at your partners 'cause you know I’m poly
|
| I’ma be swinging on these crackers like I’m playing hockey (Bitch)
|
| Young P. K. Subban with the stick on me
|
| These niggas Grey Worm, straight Unsullied
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| Boy, you scared and you weak, plus you dress bummy (C'mon, daddy)
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| I be twerkin' on stage like I’m Bad Bunny (You the man, daddy)
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| These niggas going through a phase
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| I’m going out the country, why? |
| (Be like that)
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| 'Cause I get more money
|
| Young Thor with the hammer and you can’t touch me
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| What your life like?
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| Why you settle for this job?
|
| Get your mic right
|
| These off-field niggas spreading highlights
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| Acting like we can’t read a fucking b**k, man (Man)
|
| And you not weirdos
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| And you not with the shits
|
| And you never on go
|
| Yeah, what the fuck?
|
| Begging for a donation (Gèt manman ou)
|
| And shout out to my Haitians, uh
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| Get money, nigga, stay patient
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| When you doin shit right, lames stay hating, yeah (True)
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| Pull that blicky out, they singing like Clay Aiken
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| Y’all circle jerking with no bitches and no bacon (None)
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| Out west with the Smith like I’m Jaden
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| Let it ring from either hand like Nick Saban (Brrat)
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| More money, more guns, less vacations, nigga
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| We deserve them donations
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| Don’t play with me, bitch, play PlayStation, it’s safer |