| This that findin' summer in the wintertime
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| This that mother callin' you for dinnertime
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| This that blowup argument in your apartment with your family that almost come
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| to blows but it finish fine
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| This that lotta shit was better in the simple times
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| But you came a long way to be this stressed
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| Hate to be depressed, love to be alive
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| I’m tryna put my old soul to rest and let the child grow
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| Slowed it down, it’s over now
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| The pain was then, the hope is now
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| The poster-child for growth and jokes about how folks' noses face the sky is
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| tasting my aromas now, homie
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| I never fit into the crowd, now they make crowds for me
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| If I get too cocky sprinkle lil doubt for me
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| But there’s a lotta weight in a single pound so if you come, don’t come around
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| phony
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| And I don’t got no time for tomorrow
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| Got no blindness to borrow, listen don’t you do no frontin' for me
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| Left the disguises and sorrow, fuck a prize or a follow
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| Listen, that ain’t a discussion to me
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| I think the bad kinda good too
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| Sometimes my sad is a good mood
|
| But when I’m down, down, down
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| You the one I look to
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| So if you love me please tell me today, yeah
|
| Don’t wait for the right time
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| I don’t know how long I can wait, yeah
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| Ain’t a lotta hearts like mine
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| So if you love me please tell me today, yeah
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| Don’t wait witcho bitchass
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| As temptations shallow, soliloquies deepen
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| And I’m finna be peakin'
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| You know, critically speakin'
|
| And I vow to keep it cordial with the rappers that I burnt, that’s umbilically
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| speaking
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| They could all get cut though so I wouldn’t try yours cause we don’t all get
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| luck tho
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| Artilleries deepen but once it was just jaws get snuffed and ain’t no fair ones
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| in America anyway son, we all get fucked
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| If you lucky then it’s only your mind
|
| Don’t get me wrong, the spoils is plentiful
|
| But for oil and revenue, warriors and generals toil for men who do bidding for
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| men who do bidding for men who do sitting atop of these corporate investment
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| groups who love when you log in and believe everything that you read written
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| with misled pencils convention be accept degree credentials be how much
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| oppression we can sustain for gain
|
| In the turmoil turn to empathy
|
| But who am I? |
| I’m just lil' ol' rapper me
|
| I was the young king of the «well, actually…»
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| Well actually, shit, still that is me
|
| I had a head start so don’t you feel bad for me
|
| Depressed long before 18 so what am I to do now that sad’s gone mainstream?
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| I guess that I’ll just mac wit a brew and let the sun hit my face through the
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| glass in my room
|
| And I don’t got no time for tomorrow
|
| Got no blindness to borrow, listen don’t you do no frontin' for me
|
| Left the disguises and sorrow, fuck a prize or a follow
|
| Listen, that ain’t a discussion to me
|
| I think the bad kinda good too
|
| Sometimes my sad is a good mood
|
| But when I’m down, down, down
|
| You the one I look to
|
| So if you love me please tell me today, yeah
|
| Don’t wait for the right time
|
| I don’t know how long I can wait, yeah
|
| Ain’t a lotta hearts like mine
|
| So if you love me please tell me today, yeah |