| As I walk through life
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| Comfy doing my thing
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| As I watch you
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| Check
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| As I walk through life
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| Comfy doing my thing
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| I look to the side, and I see
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| A few man, they wanna ruin my thing
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| But I guess that’s life
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| Each step that I take
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| I’m pursuing my thing
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| And my thing is rhymes
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| Lord knows
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| I ain’t chewing up kling
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| But a man’s been low
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| You never would know
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| I’m a confident brother so it never would show
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| Mom worked 2 jobs, I was waiting after school but she never would show
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| True, I walked home alone, I would think to myself I’mma win as I grow
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| True, it messed with my soul, why I had different hair, different scent,
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| different clothes
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| Different cars, different homes, different drive, different life,
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| different rights, different rows
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| I see them pull up in a Rolls, in a Benz, it depends on the day I suppose
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| Me, I used to spend the saving money on a sausage roll, pray my mom would never
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| know
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| Used the change for a sweet, then roll down the street procrastinating with the
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| bros
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| Another charity case, only really there for the stats to be safe
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| Couldn’t even have my hair platted in braids
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| Austentatious with the capital A
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| But it’s capital O, and a grammatical O
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| Put them in their place, they was all baffled and froze
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| I said don’t chat shit when you don’t actually know
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| I always felt like I had sutting to prove
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| So I kinda went on, like I had nothing to lose
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| Thiefing off niggas who were nothing to move
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| I was risking my life, as a youngun for food
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| I went through a phase when I was 16, it was weird
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| I used to wanna murder people’s voices in my head
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| I never really spoke about the voices, but instead
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| I locked myself away and studied lyrics in a shed
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| At least it felt like that I had a flat, but just a room
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| Kitchen next to the toilet, bed against the wall
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| I folded to the wall to make a bit of extra room
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| Bro, have you ever tried to make a table with a stool
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| Back then I was 18, I was really with the shits
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| If you disrespect, I stab a nigga in the neck
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| I kicked him in the stomach there was blood all in his sick
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| It left a man depressed and struggling to hit a lick
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| I started havin' dreams of getting dipped up in a flat
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| So I was moving Pow, couldn’t kick it in the track
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| And then I met my ex, she said nigga stick to rap
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| And I was really in my feelings so I listened to her chat
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| I had to cut off everybody including my dad
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| To focus on my craft to make a living from a pad
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| I had to drop the missus, she was tripping, I was sad
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| Dwelled on it for years, I couldn’t move when it was mad
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| But I took a lesson from the madness that she brang
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| It’s fleeting if you say it, but immortal if it’s sang
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| I really got to grindin' everyday I made a jam
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| I built a lyric library as a critic and a fan
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| I’d analyze my lyrics and compare them to a mans
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| I know his flow was something really hard to understand
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| Everybody offbeat with their punches, when they land
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| That’s why I’m still on my feet throwing bombs under the round
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| I seen a couple niggas killed, right before my eyes
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| Seen ‘em really crying as they look into the sky
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| I saw a lot of fear, I saw regret, I saw pride
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| He didn’t wanna die, grabbed his girl, he said goodbye
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| The ambulance is coming, it’s too late to heal the wounds
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| The pool of blood is growing, see it stopping and resume
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| The ledges of the pavement made the spreading of his stool
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| Till it flowed over the top like an infinity pool
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| These the kinda random things your mind clocks in the mist
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| Of seeing something devilish, the devils hit the delish
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| The angels they disgustingly digested what you must’ve, but you can’t see their
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| reaction, ca' you caught up in the shit
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| The devil on my shoulder was an elder, I would shot for
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| I’d shot a little Z and he would pressure me to shot more
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| I never had no money for no Gucci or no Tom Ford
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| I would get my rep from robbing, hit the road then I would shot more
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| My name is my name, as the wolfgang says
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| So I add a bait face, niggas looking for my place
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| Same time I had a stepdad tryna instigate
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| Real beef with the son of the woman that he date
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| Remember when he told me he would kill me and my mum |
| I looked her in the eyes and said is this what it’s become
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| My niggas they’ll ride, so if you’re still troubling mum
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| By the time that we arrive I’ll push something in your lung
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| And that was the last thing I saw of him or her
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| Until a year later when he pushed her down the stairs
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| I didn’t really try and talk about it with my peers
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| I was just looking for the nigga, wow, he really disappeared
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| Feds even pulled a nigga asking for a statement
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| Said I deal with it myself, ca' I ain’t talking to you wastemen
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| I got murder on my mind, so we can’t have no conversation
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| I got murder on my mind, it won’t be mellow when I face him, huh
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| So face facts
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| Is only 1 life, right on the train tracks
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| They was 18 in a polo with the strap
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| And I was only fifteen when they pull that to my gaf
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| I used to be a positive and optimistic yute
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| But trials and tribulations got me negative and rude
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| I used to have respect now I’m a disrespectful yute
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| I used to love my fellow human, now that’s «move I’m comin through»
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| My mommy couldn’t walk and for that, I’mma kill them
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| In ‘99 I was in a warehouse in Kilburn
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| My dad worked there, grinding, building
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| I know he wants more for his three likkle children
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| The good don’t come to anybody that waits
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| The good only come if you get up and chase
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| I chased man down with a blade for a grade
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| Till they stabbed me in the face, and left a stain on my brain
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| And I thought to myself, to remain here the same
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| Only ends one way, you shouldn’t play with the pain
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| It’s amazing how the mind turns pain into depression
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| It’s amazing, how a knife don’t care ‘bout fame
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| I went through a phase when I was 16, it was weird
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| I used to wanna win so much the voices in my head
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| Telling me to kill them niggas, so I went and killed them niggas
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| Didn’t kill em dead, I killed the music thing instead
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| Done |