| Fuck them all, they don’t know
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| How it feels to grow but never grow, they’re not made of stone
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| Nothing feels natural in this neighborhood
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| Nothing goes natural
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| In my garden, fields of concrete
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| I’m the only force that’s giving
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| Giving any water
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| To the plants
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| There’s no nature
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| There’s no…
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| Nothing feels natural in this place
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| Nothing grows natural
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| All of the colors are painted on
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| Shit’s fake, must be a mistake
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| As I roll and skate
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| Skate past the disaster, master of my own fate
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| Foam cake houses in a row across the cloned state
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| Hold up
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| Captain’s log, I’m on this nigga’s lawn
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| His grass is made of wax, his sprinklers is on
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| His wife is in the house, with flowers on her blouse
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| That always stay in bloom, and pills up in her mouth
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| I gotta make it out, I gotta make it out
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| I’m rushin' for a route, but everyone is calm
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| I’m in the wild west and the wilderness is gone
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| And the people live in fear and the danger don’t belong
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| Hold up… captain’s log
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| Environment here’s sterile
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| Approaching coordinates 00 34
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| Welcome to the world
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| On the way to Paul’s house
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| Left on Grand
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| Anyways I’ma make it out
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| I’m an explorer |