| Running' duckin' law, smoker got no wind
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| Pull up on 'em, pull the trigger, shoot, is he dead?
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| And no one foot out, one foot in, is you scared?
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| If I get back in that jam, I’m goin' fed, yeah yeah
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| Streets politician, lil' cousin fucked up, want me to pay tuition
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| I’m so moody off medication, this shit hard work, and dedication
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| Granny call me a devil, ran the streets all night
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| I ain’t really got no levels all my bitches all type
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| These niggas ain’t count no check, these lil' niggas be all hype
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| I was fucked up now I’m back, told 'em I’ma be all right
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| Top ten flow, ballin' like I’m Kris Dunn
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| I say Chicago, pick a gun like which one
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| You ain’t ever live in a crib with a junkie
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| Goin' to sleep, gotta hide your money
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| Wasn’t no food, gotta hold my tummy
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| Jumped in the streets, ain’t talkin' 'bout bungee
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| Couldn’t keep no job, 'cause I was clumsy
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| And I told my teacher I want no trouble
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| And I hate when a fake nigga say he love you
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| I grew up different, I’m from the city of Al Capone
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| I got caught stealin', them people say that I grew up wrong
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| Don’t blame me, blame poverty
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| Thirsty to get out and want my property
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| Fast seven think about robbin' me
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| You gon' have some wings like them Robin jeans
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| Running' duckin' law, smoker got no wind
|
| Pull up on 'em, pull the trigger, shoot, is he dead?
|
| And no one foot out, one foot in, is you scared?
|
| If I get back in that jam, I’m goin' fed, yeah yeah
|
| Streets politician, lil' cousin fucked up, want me to pay tuition
|
| I’m so moody off medication, this shit hard work and dedication |