| Uhh, Uhh, Where am I going?
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| Where am I? |
| Yo, it’s ill
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| Yo my wife’s tired of fucking me
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| Life tries ducking me
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| Luckily I find 'em just at the right time
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| Mac in my right arm, Tequila bottle in
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| My left arm like Cristian
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| Watching my life go, Can´t do myself in
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| Wolves in the night yo, hells men
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| Two revolvers I can let twelve spin
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| Hop in my Benz, push it to the limit
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| Buck-sixty, who wit' me? |
| My (?) to well
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| Twisted blunts and inner conscience
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| Telling me that I ain’t shit
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| No matter how much cash I sit with
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| Still gotta ask the lord for forgiveness
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| My precious baby girl came like forty nights of rain
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| To replenish my adolescent brain
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| Blessed be her name, before her birth I was insane
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| So I drive the cooler pressure down, delay the pain
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| I ate from these poisonous, fucked up streets
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| Tasted larceny, it was sweet, I starved for more to eat
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| Though I took, that was to live, hope God will forgive
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| As odd as it is, the more I gain the harder it is
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| To maintain, bitches playin' games
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| Niggas snitchin', I ain’t saying names
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| But y’all niggas better watch how y’all slang
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| Lost so many close niggas, drunk almost crashed
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| I’m going too fast, highway patrol will just flash
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| Lights in my rearview, if they stop me I hope they lock me
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| Instead they speed ahead
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| Yo nigga watch me
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| I’m drunk by myself, gun under my seat
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| I don’t want none of my peeps caught up in none of my beef
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| I’m a ride to the end of the road if I have to
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| Praying no car speeds by for me to crash to
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| Steering wheel in my hand
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| Trying to hold it steady
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| Anything in my way is dead
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| Cause that’s the way I feel, I am already
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| When I’m drunk by myself alone in the zone
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| Drunk by myself
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| Heard niggas hate me, but I hated too once
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| Been in the shoes of a Wolf in the night when he hunts
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| For every shell niggas bust, we bust at ourselves
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| Can’t tell them niggas nothing though, bullets wak’em up well
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| Take them to hell
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| Stick up niggas once ran up on me
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| My decadent lifestyle attracted sharks on me
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| I ain’t your mark homey
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| It’s hard to look straight, my foot on the brake
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| Spilling my bottle not even shook of the Jakes
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| Could hardly look both ways, put out the haze blurry vision
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| Think about the time in my life before I was in televison
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| Hella women, jealous niggas up in my vision
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| Since we all hood niggas expect kilos
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| For what they not seeing is police expect Rico
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| Only if I could take care of everybody, intoxicated
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| Windows up blastin A.C. going wherever instinct takes me
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| I hate it when I’m like this
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| The bottle’s my accomplice
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| The reason that I want to be alone
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| Tired of all the things that went wrong
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| That would have went right if I would have did it on my own
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| Take another swigg
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| The more I drink, the more I think bad thoughts
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| Fake friends who hung around who wanna bring you down
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| Not knowing who to trust, runors about niggas coming through
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| Supposedly to shoot at us, not knowing what was true
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| Or what to believe, that’s why I’m on the low lately
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| Choosing a Henny bottle over a friend, driving again
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| To keep my mind off that weak shit
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| There’s love through it all, things to live for
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| I swerve, almost crash into a wall
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| Think about the good, find myself laughing
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| Turn the cell off, no way to be reached
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| Know I’m near my crib, trying to see my way through the streets
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| Reminded of the positive, I take my drunk ass home
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| Start feeling out of it, can’t wait to get out of this whip
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| Bring my ass to the crib
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| I’m tired… |