| Uh, shoot my shot like I’m Craftovic
|
| Ain’t gon' do nothin with the rock? |
| Well then pass the shit
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| My chick a dimepiece like ten pacifists
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| I’m on the pier with a beer, I’m bumping classic hits
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| They dressed to nines just to whine, they just having fits
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| Rather not make the Hall than be there with an asterisk
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| This the story where the greedy lose to the passionate
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| Never applauded street shit but knew people who would clap your shit
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| So fuck whoever that I might offend then
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| You just catalyze my rise like a flight attendant
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| It’s in my blood to deal with pressure, I got hypertension
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| Precise intentions, spite incentives, leave 'em quite defensive, yeah
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| Fuck a billionaire, I really care
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| They don’t know your market value when you really rare
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| Bells work, I could show you how up at Hell’s church
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| All of that crypto can’t buy you self-worth
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| Uh, sway told me have some fun with it
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| Some higher power gave me heart, so I’ma run with it
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| Under it, hard to stomach shit, fuck it, bitch, I’ma carry on
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| Heavy this luggage get, but I’m very strong
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| Youngin', if you gon' wed the game, know it’s a marry-thon
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| So many people called it very wrong with me
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| Take it all with me, nothin' but gratitude for their platitudes
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| I just woke up to the sun, good afternoon
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| I been movin' boulders, workin' on my shoulders
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| I been tryna finda a pace
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| I been gettin' older, they been gettin' over
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| Tell me when that’s not the case
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| But I got a little pace now (Yeah, yeah)
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| Said I got a little pace now (Yeah, yeah)
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| I ain’t in a race, that’s a waste, tryna castrate my faith
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| Cat’s straight, we good (Yo, uh)
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| Then I keep a note with me
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| Buck fifty slicin' through the tape, I came to play
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| Know that they can’t really fuck with me
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| I been crushin' grapes, every word gon turn to fate
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| I done learned to discern a friend from a face
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| Some niggas ain’t gon pull you up unless you drownin' in the lake
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| But every sword that stay with me I keep a crown over their face
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| Heavy value like a bounty, pulled this nigga out the county
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| No one around me keeping pace, first place, never drowsy behind the brakes
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| Never lousy behind this laptop, I hit they brain like I’m crack rock
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| You into fame in these lanes, I ain’t in the games of the backtalk
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| And the pain is my match, I don’t care for niggas that fast talk
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| I dissect it like what is you sayin'? |
| You niggas half-off, rag-bound
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| Nod behind the glass with a pretty flick in the background
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| Red just like them classic cartoons, you know I come back round
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| And settle up the question wonderin' if you wack now, man, uh
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| (Yeah, yeah)
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| I been movin' boulders, workin' on my shoulders
|
| I been tryna finda a pace
|
| I been gettin' older, they been gettin' over
|
| Tell me when that’s not the case
|
| But I got a little pace now (Yeah, yeah)
|
| Said I got a little pace now (Yeah, yeah)
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| I ain’t in a race, that’s a waste, tryna castrate my faith
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| Cat’s straight, we good |