| Yeah, yeah, yeah
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| Yeah, yeah, yeah
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| Yeah, yeah
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| Yeah
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| Man, this gon' be my last year bein' broke
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| No lie, no joke
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| I know, I know I said that shit a million times before
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| But boy, look how I’ve grown, ain’t nobody call my phone
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| I did this on my own
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| Even Diddy started runnin' errands, pushin' papers
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| I made a fool of you haters, made friends with a few of your favorites
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| I wouldn’t say that I’m famous
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| This shit is due in the makin', I had a few reservations, but now…
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| Man, this gon' be my last year bein' broke
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| I need that, vamanos
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| Now every artist’s album, I’ll be on them fuckin' liner notes
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| These royalties fit for royalty, I’m King Jaffe Jo'
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| Watch how all these niggas jockin', watch how all these shorties watchin'
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| All these restaurants on comp now, ain’t no way I can pronounce this
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| All these cheeses queso blanco, fuckin' brie and asiago
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| I can’t tell the fuckin' difference, there’s like 40 fuckin' options
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| But it’s poppin', nigga, ooh
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| This gon' be the last year my niggas starvin'
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| You need your fruit organic, we got different problems
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| I see coppers every mornin', I’m a livin' target
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| They could kill me and just switch departments
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| Man, I’ve I been couch to couch hoppin' since the first of the month
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| Tryna think of resolutions while we circle this blunt
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| Tryna use this EBT to buy a burger deluxe
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| Luckily my local akhi come in firm in the clutch
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| Here, buy yourself somethin', this gon' be my last year bein' broke
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| That’s a promise, I’ll be prominent
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| Polly like a politician, bondin' with Obama and them
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| Bound to push the button, buggin' Flex to drop a bomb on this
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| They thought I was stupid just 'cause I ain’t get no college in
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| Shorties playin' Cupid with more collagen than Kylie Jen'
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| You can hear me speakin' from the pit, this shit is bottomless
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| You thought I was powerless, I had that shit bottled in
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| Now I’m 'bout to body shit
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| This gon' be the last year my fam ain’t ballin'
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| I hear them cameras callin', I’m on your campus often
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| I’m out at South by Southwest, I’m the man in Austin
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| The man in Texas, this been manifested
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| I’m that answer and the man in question
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| This that jam, this a jammin' session
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| Dodgin' death with both hands, bitch, I’m ambidextrous
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| I walk right up to the mirror and say, «Damn, I’m destined»
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| But damn, I’m restless
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| This gotta be my last year bein' broke
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| No lie, no joke
|
| I know, I know I said that shit a million times before
|
| But boy, look how I’ve grown, ain’t nobody call my phone
|
| I did this on my own
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| Hard to make a plan to make it out when you don’t know shit
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| We come from low income, don’t nobody own shit
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| That’s why it’s crazy when they see us with our own shit
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| Drive our own course, and steer our own ships
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| That’s some dope shit
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| That’s me givin' you some game, that’s some grown shit
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| Niggas claim my ceiling’s low, I would fold on some clothes shit
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| Now I’m on the roof on some Cole shit, that’s some cold shit
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| Man, this gon' be my last year bein' broke
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| This gon' be my last year bein' broke
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| Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever, nigga |