| Tellin' me the things you that heard about
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| Nothin' good comes when you searchin' for the wrong things
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| Somethin' feels off when I come around
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| Askin' me questions like, 'what do I believe in? |
| '
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| 'You, ' everyone’s a saint 'til the church let’s out
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| That goes for you too
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| Everything ain’t perfect but I do it for…
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| Who is you to judge me?
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| Just cause I’m drunk and stumblin' out the club, me, her and her girlfriend
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| Ain’t nobody perfect but the Lord
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| You always quick to point out all my flaws when I was leaving out yours
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| Here’s a message little girls, little boy
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| You could be the dirtiest muh’fucker in the world but have morals
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| Don’t nobody give you nothin' 'less you work for it
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| Ladies get an education, you ain’t gotta twerk for it
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| You know the Lord send you a sign, don’t ignore it
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| And that’s whether you study from the Bible or Quran or the Torah
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| We original, indigenous, God among men
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| It’s two things that’s yours, your body and your sin
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| Gotta claim 'em, just like these so-called conservatives
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| Fight against the rights of homosexuals then go home and play with lil' kid |
| Shit, I promised all the shit that I’d ever did
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| Was to move out and leave the hood and keep me from trappin' not up the river
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| And my testimony my testament
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| All the bullshit that I seen happen in life turned me into a pessimist
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| I’m cynical, yeah
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| I learned life is all about principle
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| You so judgmental 'cause you miserable
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| And my inner peace ain’t expendable
|
| Tellin' me the things you that heard about
|
| Nothin' good comes when you searchin' for the wrong things
|
| Somethin' feels off when I come around
|
| Askin' me questions like, 'what do I believe in? |
| '
|
| 'You, ' everyone’s a saint 'til the church let’s out
|
| That goes for you too
|
| Everything ain’t perfect but I do it for…
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| I never seen nobody end up in the right place
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| Worried about the wrong thing
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| So in tribulation, better do your own thang
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| See, some of my partners trap and some of 'em gang bang
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| Some of 'em snort powder, just barely maintain
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| No fuckin' with the Cali, got to grease the fist
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| Came home with a diploma, got a job makin' pennies
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| Homie like me who ain’t finished high school, dropped out and went to prison |
| Still ended up runnin' multi-million dollar businesses
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| Man, if I tell you shit I knew about
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| You can tell the difference between me reflectin' and tryna glorify
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| 'Cause most the time this shit be borderline outta line
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| And you just wanna monetize, only focus on the bottom line
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| When it deeper than that
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| We here to analyze life and hope the people connect
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| We not just out here sellin' reefer, find the cheaper connect
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| Just waitin' on TIP to spit some shit a G could respect
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| For real
|
| Tellin' me the things you that heard about
|
| Nothin' good comes when you searchin' for the wrong things
|
| Somethin' feels off when I come around
|
| Askin' me questions like, 'what do I believe in? |
| '
|
| 'You, ' everyone’s a saint 'til the church let’s out
|
| That goes for you too
|
| Everything ain’t perfect but I do it for…
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| Yeah, you see the shit they missin' today is the G-code
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| You know, what we did, man, we did out of a lack of options, you know?
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| But we stuck to a code
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| You win, you lose, but you abide by the code
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| You dig what I’m sayin'? |