| Come on, haha haha ha
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| What is this? |
| Strong game
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| Strong game, strong game, strong game
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| Let’s go
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| I got that strong game, better not catch you rolling the wrong lane
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| I’m so long, man, that I name drop my own name
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| Mob boss, silence folks, lift ya like a pot of dope
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| Style kaleidoscope, boy you shady as a college coach
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| To get your whole crew swept 'cause you slept
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| Me, I’m smooth enough to stand on one foot and two-step
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| I might hit ya with this scripture then I ain’t gon' worry with ya
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| This game I’ma take it over like a blurry picture
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| The lyric-stealer convicter, my dope curriculum, who could pass?
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| Stupid lad, you in a English class tryna do the math
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| Super bad, show you how the old school do their ass
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| Run up on a pack of young rappers and their ass
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| Leaving heathen rappers believing teaching with perfect meaning
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| Satan can’t possess me, I spit a verse and convert the demon
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| We the same but we different, listen fast
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| In a skill race I’m never last and you never last
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| I’m just tryna have loot, rappin' for the grassroots
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| I’ll break my foot up in ya ass with a glass boot
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| I’m great indeed but it seem like they ain’t takin' heed
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| Fakers breed, forget your hairline, I make your face recede
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| My game is strong, been that way since I came along
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| Now my brain is warm, you want beef, I got an angus for 'em
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| Beat ya from sideways, forward or reverse
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| Construct my house and build the second floor before the first
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| You’re not yet at the number of pages I blessed
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| The people trust me like I was the process
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| It’s like a belt when my sequences are felt
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| So unguardable, I started playing defense on myself
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| Got a all around shine that’ll make a man blind
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| Advanced mind, I’ll email you from a landline
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| Wouldn’t go see you for three bucks, all of your beats suck
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| Me I’m in the streets, doing donuts in a Brink’s truck
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| Rappers reluctant to speak much, posting that weak stuff
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| But I think deep enough to make the West and East touch
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| Shadow be clutch, K is the bigger threat while you quick to flex
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| I be knowing what you 'bout to say like predictive text
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| They get depressed when I raise to the next stage
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| Social media has created the instant mess-age
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| Everybody gossiping, poppin' off on they ex page
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| Using it to display ignorantly expressed ways
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| I label you secondary, I’m primary
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| Phones still ringing, I stay booked like libraries
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| Remember these clever similes and metaphors
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| They ready for war, boys is lower than credit scores
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| It’ll be easy defeating this punk
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| Kill your career faster than a black celebrity meeting with Trump
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| I go to new lengths, my days is spent tryna pursue rent
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| The blueprint, I charge $ 50 for my two cents
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| Watch your mouth, I am not your seed
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| Boy please, how you the GOAT and you ain’t got no cheese?
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| I make 'em while I’m mobbin' for bread
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| Spit with no beat and people still bobbin' their head
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| And it’s amazing how I keep winning like Nick Saban
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| I’m brazen, playing dirty as if I quit bathing
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| Unsurpassable battler, my mic hand shakes like a rattler
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| So when I rap, I get madder than Jim Adler
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| Hoping I let you slide for your ignorant trash
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| But see I’m like a ball hog, I’ll never give you a pass
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| You talkin' big from a distance but I knew you was the type to runnin'
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| When I’m in your face, you wanna leave like a psycho comin' |