| AIN’T NOBODY DO ANYTHING LIKE THIS BEFORE PICKET FENCE AHHH
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| No influence from white skin keyboards
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| Laughing in the wind we on all 4 bad whores
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| Nothing wrong fucking with whatever moves what your money feels like facing
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| what you can’t fight nigga
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| The same plain formula with lame taste
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| Laced with a fake bow smile cause you famous
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| Malformed babies and there growing up world is now divisive like in real life
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| in the cut
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| The main plains crying at the roots means everything in public in America is
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| shame filled
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| The air feels slick and won’t wash off rich like the bitter of my elders with
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| the layers off
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| The stress goes piling from inside rattling the beans in the worn hide means we
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| are ending
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| It was up to me id smother you, fucking with your air until it feels raw
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| Playing with my imagery is way odd
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| Carry me on crosses up the mountains (inaudible)
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| What you want? |
| baby you ain’t kidding what i feel like?
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| We are more than sorry won’t fit matter who your friend is
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| Playing flutes problem is, Aretha did it better bitch sorry
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| I don’t see my skin inside your plastic molds
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| Misses tryna figure what I smell like
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| The problem is no one wants to talk about it…
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| And i dont wanna talk it about it either
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| But ima do mines
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| I’ve never held my motherfucking tongue
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| In fact I swallowed it and came around
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| I should have known like it was before
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| That it would turn out like arizona
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| And i’ve looked enough into my eyes
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| The worst i’ve done is criticize
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| I took a couple papers for the noise
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| When i was naked but of master poise
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| Tried to take us to the promised land
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| When i felt like a lesser man
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| Who barely breathed right and always broke
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| Because they told me i was fucking great
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| And i knew better that I better not
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| So I imagined I was intensely hot…
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| Im not… |