| Yeah
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| Pew
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| Yeah, ayy
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| I was always ready though, Joe Pesci with the flow
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| Gettin' dome, home alone with ya ex, probably givin' chromosomes
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| Im just gettin' what I came for, yeah, I’m gone but I came more
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| Never home, that’s the gang, boy
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| I was waitin' in the wings, yeah
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| I been patient in this thing, yeah
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| Now I’m klepto with the flow-oh
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| I’m just takin' everything, yeah
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| They be hatin' on the kid, yeah
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| Makin' statements yo they sing, yeah
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| But they never hit a C-note, I just see notes with they name, damn
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| Why the fuck I go crazy? |
| yeah
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| Yo' girlfriend wanna date me, yeah
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| Doin' 80 in Mercedes yeah, they all dick ridin' now
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| Same people back then was tryna' play me, yeah
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| Fuck is y’all really sayin' to me?
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| Life’s a game and I’m playing for keeps
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| They pop shit but I’m prayin' we meet, yeah
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| 'Cause they talk a lot of shit I don’t see like that
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| Man, I don’t think that he like that?
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| How come he never come at me like that?
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| Since like '03, I rap
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| In the West street, where the heat got clapped
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| At Mike’s crib, ain’t have beats, like Mom I’ll be right back
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| Tryna be Mike Jack, tryna be like Hov, tryna be like Em
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| Tryna be like both, got two blonde twins so to me, that’s Olsen
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| Gotta ease back off him
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| Fore I bring that coffin
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| I don’t blink that often, got fire in my eyes
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| Got ash in my jeans, getting higher than the sky
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| A Mariah in the ride I’ll retire when I die, yeah
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| You put a sub on the Internet
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| I’ll fuck yo' bitch to The Internet
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| Was probably gettin' too intimate
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| I think I’m probably too into it
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| I think I’m actually crazy
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| This shit just not a gimmick, yeah
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| I do not know what a limit is
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| I go Picasso on every sketch
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| No I.D. |
| gave me advice, what’s the intention?
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| You gettin' attention or is you takin' your time?
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| But I do the race when I rhyme
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| I don’t see a stop sign, cannot stop firing, I’ma cock iron yeah
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| They don’t really want smoke, they’d probably choke
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| Tell 'em stop lyin', yeah
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| I’m a fever, no I’m Caesar, no a C4
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| When I blow you gon' see four shadows of Hiroshim', dawg
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| I’m a Beamer, you a hoopty
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| Drop my old bitch, she a groupie
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| Still ten toes, two feet, down like a roofie
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| Got a round for a goofy, outta town, I feel loopy
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| I don’t sleep, I chase two dreams, mine and the whole team
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| No the home team, you a cheerleader
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| Bitch, I’m a career eater
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| I don’t even really care either, in the rap game now
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| And I still can’t find a peer if we measured by a fair meter
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| I been fuckin' all these hoes that frontin' they got amnesia now
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| But I don’t need her like I need more the Selena type
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| I’m just tryna pull up in the fur that get PETA tight, word
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| Flow disgusting, I’m sicker than drinkin' Robitussin
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| With lead in red soda cups and probably put a hole in stomachs
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| You already know who run it, rappers I been Cobra clutchin'
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| I never crack, shout out to Lamar but I don’t owe them nothing
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| I never left though, I’m lefty so at 27 if I see the front of Heaven
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| Tell 'em that I rep though, from the East to the West Coast
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| Anyone who want can get more
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| They know who the coldest
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| Bitch, I wrote this in a death note, yeah |