| I’m an underground hip hop tycoon
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| You’re a kite dancing in the wind, I’m a typhoon
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| This isn’t a miserable prison, this is my room
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| Mad’s a cowboy having a showdown a high noon
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| Who wants to step, I welcome you to the test
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| Only marketing isn’t shit, but I’m arguably the best
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| When I’m not on drugs and I’m obviously not on meds
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| I’m a pirate, I’ll steal your gold in mahogany wooden chest
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| And I’m back to fucking groupies, massagin' me on my bed
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| I don’t answer the phone at night 'cause I’m probably getting head
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| I’m a hobbling goblin gobbling rappers that think they’re problems here
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| Said I’m a goblin bitch, but down for robbing your shit
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| Haters and doubters have probably thought I’m dead
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| Got you stuck on stupid, a wobbling bobblehead
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| You think you’re funny you dummy I’m making money bitch
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| Talking shit in the rain, out here it’s fucking sunny bitch
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| And on this harbor, no harboring, no resentment
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| But on that harbor I marvel it all to tension
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| And people think that I’m walking 'round with my henchmen
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| While scheming and plotting vengeance
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| That’s not even my intentions
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| My psycho analysis from psycho analysts
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| I’m psycho and a risk, iPhone’s camera click
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| I video my show with the lights on in a dark room
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| Light six hundred candles lit, in case I go ham and shit
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| They hope to catch me having a meltdown again
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| Like, my skull’s a microwave and my brain’s a banana split
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| But I can handle it, hold the mic with a hammer grip
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| Got rid of all the bad companionship’s
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| Now they’re like Manny rips
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| Animal Fight
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| Animal Fight
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| Yo, I’m running this division again, it’s mine, I ran it
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| I’ve gave some people a chance, but shit, I’ve had it
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| I’m holding on to bars and I can see their eyes panic
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| Hit with every sentence so hard, it’s like time added
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| The sharpest knife in the drawer when I grind at it
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| I’m adding, climatic line pattern, rhyme addict
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| Vicious on the streets and I still got some enforcers
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| And my listeners, they know my psychological tortures
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| Yo, I’m climbing from the bottom still
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| Black Chanel Balaclava, diamond bottom grill
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| Two missions completed, got one mission left
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| Spit with every vicious breath, it’s the kiss of death
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| Your shit is leaking, wouldn’t want to be in your boat
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| Back here to turn all of these animals into fur coats
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| So get the fuck out of my way homie, vámonos
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| Knocking over everyone at once, line of dominoes
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| Madchild, I am colder than the winter games
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| Little Rocky playing hockey in Versace vintage frames
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| Did some dumb shit that got some Warriors nervous
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| Back to murdering, I’m burden with a glorious purpose
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| Stand 5 foot 7 but I still hear some rambling
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| If I’m a dwarf, I’m worth money like a 4 foot companion
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| A champion that can’t be in that state of mind for too long
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| The blue’s gone, the true strong survived. |
| Time to move on |