| I got demons on my back
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| Only thing make me safe is the pill to take a nap
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| Hopin' it’s a dream but it’s facts
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| He ain’t Ricky, saw no bullets to his back
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| A trench baby wakin' up to the killin' on his mind
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| Counted me out, I put the city on my back
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| The weed ain’t gettin' stronger so he fallin' into crack
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| 9 to 45 on probation, it’s a trap
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| I made this before the Grammy’s
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| If I win a Grammy, I’ma take it to the trenches, to the family
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| My sis being fancy
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| Knowin' I’m 'posed to be all I have said
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| Brother died, they said I know you used to death
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| I wanna blame the niggas, I just hold it to myself
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| Bad thoughts, like I’ma hold it to his neck
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| Shit, I’m tryna hold it to his chest
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| I’m just wonderin' if I’m too grown to shed tears
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| My soul ain’t been the same, I been so damaged through the years
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| Wish distance between death, it made me closer with my kids
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| I fell out with some niggas, made me switch up on my cribs
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| And when I drop locations down the street from where I live
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| No tellin' what’s on your mind (Your mind)
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| And why you tryna sell me lies? |
| You know it’s over with
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| If you ain’t ridin' on family time, then it’s over with
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| Bro act like he ain’t bogus but he know he is
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| I’m holdin' back my tears to get my vocals clear
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| No, do you think he had your back? |
| No, no-no, nah
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| Do you love him? |
| No
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| Do you really call him your brotehr? |
| Nah, nah-nah, nah
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| No tellin' what’s on your mind
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| The graveyard that felt my pain, I put my knees in it
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| I parked the Lamb outside my block, I leave my keys in it
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| Prop O called, they tried to say I smoked some weed in it
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| I knew it’s cap, after I smoke I spray Creed in it
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| No tellin' what’s on your mind (Your mind) |