| Through the man’s mind, God
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| He see his elevation, God
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| See, through his mind he see his elevation, God
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| Because this where he begin to know that where he come from
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| Billy D Stro, too much like a pimp
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| Tomahawkin' and Morten, million dollar strip
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| Million dollar muthafuckas, not a red cent
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| It don’t make no damn sense, how this hard money spent?
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| Easy (for what)
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| For dead presidents
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| Dead muthafuckas, dead on your residence
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| Dead on the rival, you been dead ever since
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| You was a dead man walkin, get a dead wrong limp
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| And I’m dead ass serious, serious as shit
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| Serious as a heart attack, serious as chips
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| Like you been helding it down, showing me what’s up
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| I got the butterfly all up on my chest
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| And I know we gon get it together no matter what
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| So we gon eat right now, we gon chill for a minute
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| Do whatever we got to do, get our little dance on
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| And after that, boom
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| Nigga you done lost your marbles
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| Believe me, it’s me and you, till the end |