| And I might be here, but it’s really not me
|
| It’s something going on and nobody don’t see
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| All these niggas going on, wishing all upon me
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| I’ve been dreaming all along, I just wanna be free, yeah!
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| I’ve been dreaming all along, I just wanna be free, yeah!
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| I’ve been dreaming all along, I just wanna be!
|
| And they call her, little light skin, pretty figure nice bling
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| Raised by her mother, ridiculed by her white friends
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| Attached ploids to get a night in
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| Fucking for acceptance, shadow view through her life’s lens
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| Repelling for attention, cloudier the outer shell
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| Had to sour smell of religion
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| Shrouded tail of sedition auction enough for attributes
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| Cut her hair shorter, distorted glimpse, what that would do?
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| And her family had a back view
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| Neglected expected to follow soon, till she packed and moved
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| Passive aggressive attitude, singer slash actress
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| So attractive, you have to drool
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| And if that confuses see her in the setting
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| Top floor and the private party, spinning liquor on the bed
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| Letting her thought go, telling me a self story
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| Like what these people do if I flew from the twelfth store?
|
| And I might be here, but it’s really not me
|
| It’s something going on and nobody don’t see
|
| All these niggas going on, wishing all upon me
|
| I’ve been dreaming all along, I just wanna be free, yeah!
|
| I’ve been dreaming all along, I just wanna be free, yeah!
|
| I’ve been dreaming all along, I just wanna be!
|
| And told her that life is what you’re making
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| Be careful for you taking
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| She said pretty looks became her security blanket
|
| The game could be a trip, sometimes can stumble and trip
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| These other bitches you trip, you’re busting tables that this bank wits
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| And you’re on that big bank tower bank shit
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| People aiming to shoot when it’s probably easy to bank it
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| Pain sits in the face, it’s plain anguish
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| Try to talk about a job, but to hurt, that’s a foreign language
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| Penny for her thoughts, quarters if you’re out of range
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| Feeling out of touch, but you’re out of luck if you’re out of change
|
| Kinda of strange the conversation we had
|
| She said it all sparked from a conversation with dad
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| And I might be here, but it’s really not me
|
| He said you be holding in all these feelings I see
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| And you’re struggling with your past, pretending you couldn’t grasp
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| Emotional conflicts, constrict what we had!
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| And I know I’m not perfect, I just wanna stay friends
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| And every man you had since then, you blame them
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| And can’t change men, she’s telling herself stories
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| Sucking this pack room, the view from the twelfth store |