| Now sometimes, you got to fight it out
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| Find something how to write about and white it out
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| It ain’t too many things I ain’t seen or done
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| Cream and guns, I’m feeling like our rap dreams have begun
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| The scene is upon us, the green is enormous
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| I’m god’s law, you could read me in your tauris
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| You could call me, when it’s a weed shortage
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| I breez through artists, It’s funny and shit, they wanna
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| Alter a nigga, when my money’s legit
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| I guess they must’ve thought that I was fucking with Knicks
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| Shit, they should’ve caught me when I was bringing bricks in
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| Right past customs, driving them to chicks in
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| Now I’m in the big Benz, stacking sick ends
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| And just wait, loyalties ain’t even kicked in
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| And young jackers get immortalized forever at twenty-one
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| I used to move more damn weight than anyone
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| Give it all you got, no matter what you do
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| You got to keep it real with yourself
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| One shot at the top, you never got two
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| I’ll let you know the deal
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| Give it all you got, no matter what you do
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| You got to keep it real
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| It’s one shot at the top, you never get two
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| No time to chill nigga
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| In my crib, use big screens is my rule
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| Yo boy got more sixteens than high school
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| More twenty-two's than college, I drop jewels
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| Fools refuse to use the knowledge
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| I used to set up whole schools in the projects
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| When niggas is dead broke, hoes viewed as objects
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| Opps, I just contradicted myself, who the fuck am I to teach
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| I’m afflicted myself, at least I’m rich
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| You gonna get priced out if you try
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| Two point seven, I’m iced out in july
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| Sometimes, taking the right rout, you do right
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| Chuchu breaking the pipe out, my crew high
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| I send this one out to Chi
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| Approach CONGLOM wrong, no doubts you die
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| The second live don’t just drop out the sky
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| I ain’t took the game yet, but I’m out to try, nigga
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| I’m adjacent to myself, with the spirit that I rhyme with
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| My Movado is broken, my lyrics are timeless
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| I’m with the great ones, whoever you call great
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| But niggas always got their hands out like All State
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| I’m like «Excuse me G, I don’t fuckin know ya
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| I can’t do nothing for ya.»
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| I’m not the nigga to depend on
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| Because before I let you eat, I’m gonna have to put my friends on
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| I might rush you through the crowd, and write ten songs
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| Or air it out, I’m just trying to see the endzone
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| Or you can kind of say, I’m kind of like the goal post
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| I’m always up-right with it when I hold toast
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| Mr. Gold Coast, rocking a chain
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| I’m hot like flame, with no block to claim
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| Em know me, and Jin knows of me
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| One in a million like the great ten Moseley
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| Kan' Know me, Kanye Knows me
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| Twista know me, It’s ya homie
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| Slum know me, Dilated do
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| Jurassic 5, since way back in eighty-two
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| Xzibit know me, Tash, Jeru and Ino
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| Royce, what up cuz, you need to holla at yo people
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| To all my underground niggas that I started with
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| You know the battle cat, I’ll show you who the artist is
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| He grew up claiming BZT
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| When Rio was gettin bone-taste from Eazy-E
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| So nigga please, let me be me
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| Somewhere between fifty and BDP, lies me
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| I’ll leave your vocal cords come in a loose
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| I am not the one to comfront in the booth
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| King of freestyle, I’ve done it as a youth
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| And I don’t know a motherfucker that want it with Juice
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| That’s real. |
| Yea. |
| Emmaculate on the beat. |
| Whattup nigga
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| Conglomerate. |
| J U, I haven’t even started my rain, I’m
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| Only drizzling man. |
| Ah, Oh-five, so live |