| A lotta y’all just want some shit to critique
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| But your ass can’t listen in the midst of a speech
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| As long as the cool table still got limited seats
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| And you try to argue your way in, you’ll be sitting with sheep
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| Yeah, we so quick to just speak, addicted to peaks
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| But life lived in the middle is sweet
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| Chasing highs, avoiding lows, never time to even learn
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| Usually ones getting loud but don’t even believe their words
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| I’m from New York, we was taught not to feed the birds, but
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| Ain’t no hungry pigeon in sight these days, politely, hey
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| This shit we giving hype be fake
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| I wonder a lotta days what good is progression
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| If it’s all built on lies
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| Lost our ability to evaluate
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| Need to re-calibrate our rigid little Tweets
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| I think you’re past your fate, everyone wanna eat
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| But it’s red if they won’t have the stakes that I have embraced
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| Man, have a plate
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| Or keep acting like this shit don’t matter
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| Acting like we ain’t the blueprint for the kids going after
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| Acting like we ain’t the ones who made it cool tonight
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| Knowing not try and not grow as long as you got hoes, right?
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| I feel responsibility to declare your flopping
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| And I do my duty free like airport shopping
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| Won’t take the culture name in vain, you a junkie, um
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| Dudes just wanna be liked even if that means they gon' be wrong
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| Claim they cold but that’s fear, they present the shame
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| Shivering, covering up, unrelenting games, yeah
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| They want the fame, they all want the pain
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| They wanna be Marlon, they don’t wanna work at the other name
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| Mission to avoid a cubicle turned to a collar
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| A bar then a musical, Esperanza Spalding
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| Yeah, I’m the best, I’ll debate your mother
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| She probably saw me on MSNBC and loved it
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| I’d rather have these dialogues within the culture
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| But this payola these days is undercover
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| I guess it ain’t payola when it’s just the whole structure
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| Like the same thing on the table is somehow better than under
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| I shout shit they ain’t got the balls to utter
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| Apalled, disgusted how I live, I don’t know how you ain’t
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| The money stay up but the value ain’t
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| I run circles round you dude till I’m out of shapes
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| Yeah, so fuck you and your little pouty face
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| No one ever cared about mine
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| I had to prove I wasn’t pussy every day my whole life
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| If they look at me like a trust fund baby one more time
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| I might slap the shit out your face, open hand
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| So you overstand you ain’t worth the risk of a broken hand
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| Only spend time with my people, really know the plan
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| You just fear this light 'cause all you know is lamp
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| And that ain’t halal brother
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| That ain’t halal brother
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| I’m talking to the god |