| I said squaaaaad the fuck up
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| Hit my nigga, tell him pull the truck up
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| Finna fuck that bitch that said I couldn’t do it, actin' stuck up
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| My niggas put the drugs up, we used to put our lunch up
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| Bettin' on the Pokémon battle or wrestling matches
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| Foggy glasses, I step off the stage, proceed to laugh
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| How I get this far? |
| Give a year, how you get this cough?
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| Seventh grade, how you get them bars?
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| I am confused, I hate these dudes that ask questions
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| Leather pants kickin' birds out feather vans
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| Watch quadruple Ks, Keenan, Kel and Kim Kardashian
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| And fucked her man, and fuck your fans, and fuck your friends
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| I’m with some old bitches tryna fuck again
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| Cause I’m a different nigga, I got a different plan
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| Tomorrow never promised me nothin' but bein' broke
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| And all I ever wanted was extra sleep and some dome
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| While y’all fad follow, I’m tryna up my dough
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| Such a star, I’d probably get boo’d at the Apollo
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| I spit sick swallow, then dro’d up
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| I know when you know I’m pullin' cards like Uno
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| Crew so real that we ain’t gotta deal
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| Long as the block think it’s hot then we got mass appeal
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| Put a fork in the pitch and if y’all ain’t with it, we ain’t bitchin'
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| Some only feel the heat when it’s money in the kitchen
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| Rippin' tracks like it’s for my freedom
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| The don, what you thought, y’all could beat him?
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| If rap’s a sport, I like Derülo
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| Sharp like a vato, lines over your culo
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| I kick shit 'til the flavor is good
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| Y’all spit rich shit but still live in the hood
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| I don’t own leather pants, never dance
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| The Nae Nae’s a no no, I might hit the Shmoney on the low though
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| It’s the sultan, sittin' on the throne made of diamonds
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| Polyester robe with the linen in the linin'
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| Gold microphone trap the words I’m designin'
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| Your girl give emoji red hearts when I’m rhymin'
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| Helicopter rise with my Js swingin' in the wind
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| If I’ma make it rain, it’s for the kids in the tenements
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| We givin' out turkeys in the winter
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| Rap Robin Hood, make sure every lil' kid get a dinner
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| The Mustang peel out, smoke like 9−11
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| Rhymin' legend, time again and time again the comp is shredded
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| Feelin' like Kane in '87, the greatest ever
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| Grew up in the '90s, to me that was the greatest era
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| Give me a mic, some turntables and some speakers
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| For me it’s like a fully packed church to the preacher
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| Knowledge reigns supreme, 'Ology the new teacher
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| And I brought some new killers with me rhymin' on the features
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| Jesus |