| No, no
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| No, no, no, no
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| No, no
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| No, no, no, no
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| No, no
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| No, no, no, no
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| No, no
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| No, no, no, no
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| Life’s crazy
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| My parents worried 'bout me
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| 'Cause I didn’t talk to nobody, just made beats
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| And now I get paid by the syllable
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| Gotta thank 'em though, I know it can be difficult
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| As I tip-toe in and out of zip codes
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| All on a mission of love, that’s what I live for
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| I got big dreams, ma, I got big goals
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| You see my old ones now because I lived those
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| You got to admit, ma
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| I told you I was gonna get into Duke and I did, ma
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| I told you I would get signed and I did, ma
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| Look at this, ma, look at this, ma
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| No, no
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| No, no, no, no
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| No, no
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| No, no, no, no
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| All my friends feel trapped and afraid
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| I close my eyes and try to imagine a way
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| To wash all my old patterns away
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| I had to stop smokin' 'cause it scattered my brain
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| «Fuck bitches» is what my favorite rappers would say
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| I say there is something beautiful after the pain
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| After the pain, this can’t be real
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| Turns out the ladder to fame is a hamster wheel
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| When we played the Palace, my parents were first row
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| That’s a feeling that I don’t even have words for
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| I did my song, went backstage, and drank a Henny bottle
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| Picked up my phone and then I started texting any model
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| I used to put a target on every cute face
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| And keep Plan B pills in my suitcase
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| «That's gross, time to grow,» that’s what Ronny said
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| Man, Willie just called, «Dawg, Ronny’s dead»
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| I’m tryna stumble to a truer view
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| I’m noticing the sky is a bluer hue
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| It’s time to get to work, that’s what doers do
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| I’m looking in the mirror like, «Who are you?» |