| These the types of lessons you don’t wager rent for
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| These the types of dudes that build resentment
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| These the type of times that really define commitment
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| Thse are not the typ of niggas that openly show resistance, but rather the ones
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| that sneak up close to get exposure
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| If you co-sign or vouch for that snake, you just as guilty
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| Venom is on your sleeves and the Tea Leaves are just filthy
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| Poison starts to speckle and sproutin' out of your speech
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| It’s ironic thirsty niggas suck blood out of a leech
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| I was told to pick another path
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| Switch and find another craft
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| Trade it all just to go back & hear my mother’s laugh
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| Crescent Park was the cloud we hovered past
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| There were days I thought I suffered the same fate that my cousin had
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| But no advice is better than bad advice
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| I’d rather fail doing me than smoke on your panic pipe
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| While you sit online and judge, that taken-for-granted life
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| Bitch, I grind to put my plan in flight
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| I’m speakin' out for my people livin' in disarray, that disobey authority
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| Morally obligated to stop & state what is formally
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| Stolen from us
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| In hopes that one of us show growth among us
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| Gross in numbers
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| Numb to incumbents that try to boast, but hung us
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| I can sense a weak rapper by his profile
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| I can sense a bitch nigga by his close pal
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| But in this current climate with all of this struggle behind it
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| All you rap about is money & bitches
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| Lyrically lowbrow
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| The low cloud the hovers above us covers but aisles
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| Self Determination determines whether we both drown
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| Lyrics are Life Rafts; |
| Buoys become a playlist
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| Paddling upstream to up streams until they say quit
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| The same stiff-arm labels used to engage with
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| On days which I was too lazy waitin' for late hits
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| Delayed whistle, they diss you until they need you
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| I’d rather teach you to fish than just feed you |