| Fuck all that patient shit, they wan' argue
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| I ain’t take the bait for shit, this ain’t art school
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| Fuck your lil' high-brow critique
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| Before I bow to feet, ain’t walked down my street
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| Never been the «that's the way it is» type of dude
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| Fuck that, I’mma tell you how it is, type of mood
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| Bust that, type of moves light the fuse to bring light
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| To that type of bruise so deep under that people scared
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| We can only feel it, but we can’t see it
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| Lot' these dudes only type it, they can’t be it
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| Champion any man, region, fuck what cam be in
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| Can’t beat them when they can’t see them
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| On that freedom man being
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| Yeah, and I barely
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| But trust that I beat Diddy on any care lingo
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| Keep with me, many dare to think so bright
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| But the blood of fakes though and it’s very rare the ink glow
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| But honestly fuck a rap compliment
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| What the fuck’s a ball to a prophet, bitch?
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| What the fuck’s a threat to the option-less?
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| I need this shit to breathe and I gots to live
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| Yeah, thing the time is yours, 'cause online is yours
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| That’s what you grindin' for?
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| Watch when we cut the net, like the final four
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| I bet you don’t got the chest to back that lion’s roar, pussy
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| Yeah, push me, I promise
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| I’m used to stress, all I could be is honest
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| I used to fret that I couldn’t even keep conscious
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| Thanks to my weakness, I could be the strongest out
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| Situation game critical
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| Stop playing with me this year y’all, I tried to tell y’all
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| I’m not playin' no fuckin' games this year
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| Don’t look at me no type of way
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| Don’t fuckin' s- fuckin' subtweet me, whatever you wan' do
|
| Don’t do shit this year, look
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| I’m no stranger to anger and rage
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| Getting aimed at my head by a lame
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| 'Cause they name got some fame, but they so insecure
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| That they keep themselves locked away
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| And I get to be the real me all up in their proximity
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| Who the one that got you stressed, lil' me?
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| Stop throwin' stones 'fore you get the boot for the Sicily
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| I make the jazz cats listen to raps
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| I make the hood kids listen to sax
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| I make the white dudes understand which straws they pull out they ass
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| I got err’body givin' me dap
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| Craft never speak to just one ol' faction
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| That picture’s incomplete, that’s a demo-graphic
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| Yes, the whole team’s 'boutta be N-O backwards
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| Won’t stop 'til the whole scene accept no actors
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| The music on the
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| bring me power, word to 50
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| If I’m the chosen one, it’s only 'cause I picked me
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| Let a label manager or agent try to Taylor Swift me
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| I’ll have a custom grave tailored swiftly, you dig me? |