| La di da di da, da
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| I like this flavor
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| La di da di da, la
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| Let me tell you
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| I’m out here from a very far away place
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| All for a chance to be a star
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| Nowhere seems to be too far
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| No more parties in LA
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| Please, baby, no more parties in LA, uh
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| No more parties in LA
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| Please, baby, no more parties in LA, uh
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| No more (Los Angeles)
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| Please (shake that body, party that bod-)
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| Please (shake that body, party that body)
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| Please (shake that body, party that body)
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| Hey baby you forgot your Ray Bans
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| And my sheets still orange from your spray tan
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| It was more than soft porn for the K-man
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| She remember my Sprinter, said «I was in the grape van»
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| Uhm, well cutie, I like your bougie booty
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| Come Erykah Badu me, well, let’s make a movie
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| Hell, you know my repertoire is like a wrestler
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| I show you the ropes, connect the dots
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| A country girl that love Hollywood
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| Mama used to cook red beans and rice
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| Now it’s Denny’s, 4 in the morning, spoil your appetite
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| Liquor pouring and niggas swarming your section with erection
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| Smoke in every direction, middle finger pedestrians
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| R&B singers and lesbians, rappers and managers
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| Music and iPhone cameras
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| This shit unanimous for you, it’s damaging for you, one thing
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| That pussy should only be holding exclusive rights to me, I mean
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| He flew you in this motherfucker on first class
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| Even went out his way so you could check in an extra bag
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| Now you wanna divide the yam like it equate the math?
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| That shit don’t add up, you’re making them mad as fuck
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| She said she came out here to find an A-list rapper
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| I said baby, spin that round and say the alphabet backwards
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| You’re dealing with malpractice, don’t kill a good nigga’s confidence
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| Just cause he a nerd and you don’t know what a condom is
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| The head still good though, the head still good though
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| Ladies say «Nam Myoho Renge Kyo»
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| Make a nigga say big words and act lyrical
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| Make me get spiritual
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| Make me believe in miracles, Buddhist monks and Cap’n Crunch cereal
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| Lord have mercy, thou will not hurt me
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| Five buddies all herded up on a Thursday
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| Bottle service, head service, I came in first place
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| The opportunity, the proper top of breast and booty cheek
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| The pop community, I mean these bitches come with union fee
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| And I want two of these, moving units through consumer streets
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| Then my shoe released, she was kicking in gratuity
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| And yeah G, I was all for it
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| She said K Lamar, you kind of dumb to be a poet
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| I’mma put you on game for the lames that don’t know they’re a rookie
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| Instagram is the best way to promote some pussy
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| Scary
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| Scary
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| No more parties in LA
|
| Please, baby, no more parties in LA
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| Friday night tryna make it into the city
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| Breakneck speeds, passenger seat something pretty
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| Thinking back to how I got here in the first place
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| Second class bitches wouldn’t let me on first base
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| A backpack nigga with luxury taste buds
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| And the Louis Vuitton store, got all of my pay stubs
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| Got pussy from beats I did for niggas more famous
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| When did I become A list? |
| I wasn’t even on a list
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| Strippers get invited to where they only get hired
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| When I get on my Steve Jobs, somebody gon' get fired
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| I was uninspired since Lauryn Hill retired
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| And 3 Stacks, man, you preach it to the choir
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| Any rumor you heard about me was true and legendary
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| I done got Lewinsky and paid secretaries
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| For all my niggas with babies by bitches
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| That use their kids as meal tickets
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| Not knowing the disconnect from the father
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| The next generation will be the real victims
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| I can’t fault 'em really
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| I remember Amber told my boy no matter what happens she ain’t going back to
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| Philly
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| Back to our regularly scheduled programmin'
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| Of weak content of slow jammin'
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| But don’t worry, this one’s so jammin'
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| You know it, L.A., it’s so jammin'
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| I be thinkin' every day
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| Mulholland Drive, need to put up some god damn barricades
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| I be paranoid every time
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| The pressure, the problem ain’t I be drivin'
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| The problem is I be textin'
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| My psychiatrist got kids that I inspired
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| First song they played for me was 'bout their friend that just died
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| Textin' and drivin' down Mulholland Drive
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| That’s why I’d rather take the 405
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| I be worried 'bout my daughter, I be worried 'bout Kim |
| But Saint is baby Ye, I ain’t worried 'bout him
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| I had my life threatened by best friends who had selfish intents
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| What I’m supposed to do?
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| Ride around with a bulletproof car and some tints?
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| Every agent I know know I hate agents
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| I’m too black, I’m too vocal, I’m too flagrant
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| Something smellin' like shit, that’s the new fragrance
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| It’s just me, I do it my way, bitch
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| Some days I’m in my Yeezys, some days I’m in my Vans
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| If I knew y’all made plans I wouldn’t have popped the Xans
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| I know some fans who thought I wouldn’t rap like this again
|
| But the writer’s block is over, emcees cancel your plans
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| I’m 38 years old, a 8 year old with rich nigga problems
|
| Tell my wife that I hate the Rolls so I ain’t never drive it
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| It took 6 months to take the Maybach all matted out
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| And my assistant crashed as soon as they backed it out
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| God damn, got a bald fade, I might slam
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| Pink fur, got Nori dressing like Cam, thank God for me
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| Whole family gettin' money, thank God for E!
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| I love rockin' jewelry, a whole neck full
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| Bitches say he funny and disrespectful
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| I feel like Pablo when I’m workin' on my shoes
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| I feel like Pablo when I see me on the news
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| I feel like Pablo when I’m workin' on my house
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| Tell 'em party’s in here, we don’t need to go out
|
| We need the turbo thots, high speed, turbo thots
|
| Drop-dro-dro-dro-drop it like Robocop
|
| She brace herself and hold my stomach, good dick’ll do that
|
| She keep pushin' me back, good dick’ll do that
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| She push me back when the dick go too deep
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| This good dick’ll put your ass to sleep
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| Get money, money, money, money
|
| Big, big money, money, money, money
|
| And as far as real friends, tell my cousins I love 'em
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| Even the one that stole the laptop, you dirty motherfucker
|
| I just keep on lovin' you, baby
|
| And there’s no one else I know who can take your place
|
| Please, no more parties in LA
|
| Please, baby, no more parties in LA, uh
|
| No more parties in LA
|
| Please, baby, no more parties in LA, uh
|
| No more parties in LA
|
| Please, baby, no more parties in LA, uh
|
| No more (Los Angeles)
|
| I’m out here from a very far away place
|
| All for a chance to be a star
|
| Nowhere seems to be too far
|
| SWISH |