| If Michael Jackson came alive right now
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| He’d ask you to smoke one for him
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| So in his honor
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| You niggas Spud Webb, coming up short
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| Think you’re Dee Brown, jump if you want
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| I put it on my momma and her very last nerve
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| Ricky Madoff everything I deserve
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| The square root of a kilo is me nigga
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| The square root of a kilo is me nigga
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| Do the math, I’m a motherfucking G nigga
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| It’s all on me now, as you can see now
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| I’m gon' get this money and I will not be denied
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| Been shittin' on you fucks a long time, time to pee now
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| When you finish first they hate you worse, startin to see now
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| I’m at the round table, where your seat at?
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| Where your plate, where your lobster, where your sea bass?
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| We ain’t never left, acting like we back
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| You should see us now taking pictures acting like we rap
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| This the circle that’ll murk you, blackout, short circuit
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| Somebody show them square ass niggas the first exit
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| This here reserved for soldiers most definitely
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| So watch what you say and where you step more carefully
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| If I fall in the field and ain’t no more air for me
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| Pour some on the ground and put one in the air for me
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| Tell my enemies fuck 'em, they know already but fuck 'em
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| Tell 'em again with a middle finger and a chuckle
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| You don’t know nann nigga, nope, uh uh
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| This famous that’ll still throw copper
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| Cross so heavy crack the tabernacle
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| Fire the ganja back up
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| Throw some blow in my tobacco
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| Then crank the Lac up
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| One match left, this the last turn
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| Santeria candles in my sanctuary burn
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| I’mma earn 'til the last court adjourn
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| 'Til the last gavel drop we gon' have it locked
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| We gon' have it locked
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| We gon' have it locked
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| I’m part of the small percentage of niggas who make it out the ghetto
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| But niggas tried to pull me back cause misery loves company
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| It’s funny how they come for me when they see me living comfortably
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| But when I was broke and sleeping on floors they ain’t want nothing from me
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| My future’s so bright but my past so ugly
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| And I just try to correct it all but it all still haunts me
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| Tried to section off the past but it still haunts me
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| So I accept what got me here, reflecting in this rocking chair
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| All this space created, all that hard work it got me here
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| So what I look like telling a nigga that I shouldn’t be here
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| Power to the people so the people shouldn’t live in fear
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| And I’ll be that raising voice and tell the people treat us fair
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| Warring in the streets tell them soldiers to meet us there
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| Out in the open all alone, I felt the coldest air
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| Secluded in my thoughts in fear
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| No one to talk to, no one there
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| Not even a voice, not even an ear
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| No one alive, no one to care
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| Now I got a power circle, now I’m on a power trip
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| And they calling me counterfeit cause I ain’t gave a coward shit
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| Stone me, throw me a pile of shit but you won’t pull me out of it
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| It’s funny how it comes full circle
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| Now they wanna be a part of the power circle
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| They wanna be a part of the power circle
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| May the wind be at your back
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| May the bad be in your past
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| May the kids take all your good
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| And your wife have class
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| And you realize your goals
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| And what’s life without grind
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| Those niggas, yo' niggas?
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| Hope those niggas real as mine
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| May the wind be at your back
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| May the bad be in your past
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| May the kids take all your good
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| And your wife have class
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| And you realize your goals
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| And what’s life without grind
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| Those niggas, yo' niggas?
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| Hope those niggas real as mine
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| There’s a difference between underrated and hasn’t made it
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| Once you successful they relentlessly giving you hatred
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| There’s no applause for ya and success is hard for ya
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| There’s enemies, envy, with green my niggas -- lawnmower
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| And I’m on tour, Jordan 4's, Tom Ford
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| And I ain’t thugging, they clapping at me, a encore
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| Got a dark heart, bright mind, make women crazy
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| I give her D, I throw up two, I call that shit a safety
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| Shit is crazy when entertainment ain’t entertaining
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| And my inner sanctum need real estate I’m out my cabeza
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| Jealousy’s for the weak, you ain’t happy I made it
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| I be feeling like brother Malcolm just out of the Nation
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| Allah got us cause if we hollered a lost numbers |
| I seen hustlers turn cluckers out niggas grandmothers
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| So shut the fuck up and listen, fuck all them stuck up musicians
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| My circle small but regardless, my circumference official
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| My clothes different like quarterbacks at a closed scrimmage
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| They gon' blitz us but ain’t no way that they gon' hit us
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| I’m so elusive, so my niggas be goin' through it
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| Guess it’s a wrap when your co-defendant make soul music
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| Cash rule the world -- at least it do with girls
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| At least it do with churches, seek the truth and true it hurts
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| If they real, then they real -- my niggas deserve it
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| And we don’t deal with weak squares in this power circle
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| We don’t deal with weak squares in this power circle
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| I’m like welcome to the power circle
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| I came a long way, I started with a powdered circle
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| Clique full of real niggas that’ll probably murk you
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| Cause they about that murder game you do a lot of verbal
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| Lotta talking, lotta Tweeting, 'til you hear that chopper speaking
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| Kill my dog, I kill your dog, we tied even, I’d believe it
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| If you see it then you got it, nigga never give up
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| Cause if you grindin' you gon' be rich before you can look up
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| My cousin Knock told me never teach niggas to cook up
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| Cause you can sell 'em hard for the low and give 'em the hookup
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| And still make the profit
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| The streets say I’m the hottest and a nigga still modest
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| I’m just being honest
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| Back to the wall, never let 'em get behind us
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| Mac in my draws fitting right in my designers
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| Look at my persona, I dreamed it, woke up and conquered
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| And there was commas after commas, I eat 'em like Benihanas
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| Put the shrimp over the pasta, the pasta over the lobster
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| And the lobster over the table, power circle a mafia
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| Just talkin' money, talkin' money what you talkin' bout?
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| Probably talkin' bout us, we the only thing to talk about
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| Cause we the only thing to talk about
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| Cause we the only thing to talk about
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| Look inside the eyes of the last Mohicans survived
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| You won’t last a weekend outside
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| Seen a pastor tweaking, then sunk his teeth in a rock his demise
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| Later on that evening you heard the grieving of angels that cried
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| See a demon don’t compromise
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| And so I walk alone with a cross and a diamond stone
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| I’m a diamond inside the rough that’s too mighty for maricons
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| I might as well put all my killers in YSL
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| Put my voice on this microphone, put you pussy niggas through hell
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| Hell’s fire, I never lie, you will never grind
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| I know the priors they running by us when we do crime
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| I know that section eight wanna discontinue my Moms
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| When they heard that Ohio State gave me 30 racks in July
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| Oh Lord, this can’t be life, no it can’t be life
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| When they day breaks and you earned them stripes
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| And you learned that strike
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| From upstate will adjourn that life and confirm that life
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| It’s good bait for the warden that might get awarded and write
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| Now your fate can record it denied a reporter replied
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| The death rate will eventually climb, so eventually I’m
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| On a track race for the dough before time get a clock that resigns
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| So about face if it ain’t business, I get offended, I mind
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| Now one fake, I’m a realist in strive, I’m a billion in five
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| Well a billion cause the limit is the sky and I live on cloud nine
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| And I recognize my nemesis gon' try to put a finish in my shine
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| But pussy, we’ll hurt you
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| Life in the power circle
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| Regardless of how it goes down
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| Life goes on, am I right?
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| Tried to warn you niggas
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| I tried to warn you niggas
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| It’s too late now
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| Double M-G
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| Too much cake
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| Too much power
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| Too much respect
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| Bow down, nigga
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| Ugh! |