| I’m from the Rocky Mountains
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| 4 wheel drives I’m hoping out them
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| Talking bout how the war steals lives
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| Forgot about them cause you ain’t from the Springs
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| Where the heat come early hearing the beat from the C 130
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| Make you wonder if our freedoms worthy
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| Hurry to draft our population
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| Kids loosing they dads to the Iraq occupation
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| Cops in blue and black waiting
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| Two in the back hating on the boom in the Ac
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| While we cruising through the gas stations
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| Cash inflation grow passed your patience
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| See the banks throw us out like trash
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| It’s castration for any mans ego
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| Saving the fam we know
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| Ain’t Brooklyn
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| But we still in the hand of Gambino’s
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| My fam came from the east coast
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| Pikes Peak or bust so to those we toast
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| You might meet the dust if you got more foes then friends
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| But in the end you gotta keep both close
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| Saw my first gun in 6th grade the young had switchblades
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| D-3 got PTSD to this day
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| You know those proud boys
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| Popping that loud noise
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| Come mopping your town with a crowd full of cowboys
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| Vet’s sent to free never left what they went to see
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| So Colorado’s getting out of debt through the dispensaries
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| Filling those empty z’s from killing enemies
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| Let me see who reps the C presently mention me
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| Shout out to those who will eventually
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| And those cops closing down every event that we went to see
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| Now you can mock me
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| Lock me in this box with Lockheed
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| I’ll drop heat
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| Leaving even the cocky knock kneed
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| Stop me if a fan needs an autographed copy
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| Like… Where you from man?
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| The Rockies
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| Lost friends to drugs and gun violence
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| Thugs of all kinds since HUD homes
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| And Sons of Silence
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| Since the gunned down Ludlow Miners
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| And that one running town playing humble
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| Climbing on that methamphetamine
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| Left hand lead a dream
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| Right hand let him fean
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| Despite them getting green
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| Must be the adrenal fever
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| Or the high altitude cerebral edema
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| Now where’s FEMA no where’s your femur
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| Drop knee believer redeem your demeanor
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| Run rhymes cus sometimes the green is greener
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| When you see the whole scene
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| Through the sheen of a screen door
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| Now it ain’t worth a stack for the major labor pains
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| Laying birth to a track with a major label’s name
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| Haters complain shame I don’t cater to fame
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| I fight back writing raps I gotta later explain
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| If you favor the change put your hands to the reins
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| I’m from the land where a man is a man
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| And a range is a range
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| Hollywood can damage your brain
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| Take advantage of all that’s good
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| And hand you a chain
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| I stay the same ain’t playing the part
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| With every statement from the heart
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| Made facing the dark
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| Bringing light to the days at Acacia Park
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| Do you rap do you skate do you paint
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| State your art
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| Play your part before you sweat the scene
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| From the 719 and anyone with a dream
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| To the 303 and everyone in between
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| And the let the sun shine down on Colorado Springs |