| So don’t be mad at me
|
| I used to breathe asthmatically
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| No strategy for whenever brain
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| Gets going, counting the stars through the growing pains
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| Shoulder blame
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| Foot the bill, take a sugar pill
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| Over the counter drugs, the ones niggas couldn’t feel
|
| Like the wooden wheel
|
| Ben switched the island with
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| Arms stretched
|
| Head high like a lion sit
|
| Yeah, I’m trying to get it
|
| But where did it go
|
| Under 10 inches of that lake-effect snow
|
| But I’ma do whatever it takes, so let’s go
|
| Let’s go to the projects, let’s go to the moon
|
| Shout to Aes Rock for calling out my spoons
|
| Shout to hip hoppers I met in high school
|
| Y’all saved my life Thursday afternoons
|
| (This goes out to the)
|
| Ghetto children, making codewords
|
| In the projects around the world
|
| Ghetto children, fighting dragons
|
| In the projects around the world
|
| Don’t overlook it though
|
| You gotta know what you couldn’t know
|
| Yeah I’m good to gone, head scrutinize
|
| Put your gloves on and dig for a new surprise
|
| It might be supersized, use all your muscles
|
| Get in front of the groove just like a hustle, improve
|
| The fightin' scuffle, stay sharp for the moment
|
| I rhyme for survival so the art is a bonus
|
| I was sparked into motion back when Carson was hosting
|
| Everything is better when you don’t know nothing
|
| I’m grown so I’m always disgusted
|
| All these discussions online is mayonnaise versus mustard
|
| Mayonnaise people think French can’t be trusted
|
| Mustard people think eggs is all busted
|
| But fuck it
|
| We in it for the pattern interruptions
|
| (This goes out to the)
|
| Ghetto children, hacking networks
|
| In the projects around the world
|
| Ghetto children, splicing cables
|
| In the projects around the world
|
| So don’t be mad at me
|
| I overthink things radically
|
| King tragedy
|
| Prince everlong
|
| Never shake up my eight-ball cause it’s never wrong
|
| I sing whatever song I damn well please
|
| Vintage 5deez or tempted by squeeze
|
| My dispensary’s closed and I meant to buy weed
|
| I’m salty at the airport in security
|
| Tragic is the story of the cookie face king
|
| Long black trench on the roof like Sting
|
| Pointing bats at my enemies let it be known
|
| Pull up at the show hitting every orange cone
|
| I park where I want but I cry if I’m towed
|
| I don’t really know where it’s right to buy clothes
|
| Unregulated labor made all that I own
|
| Can I make an impact if I strike the right tone
|
| And keep saying words into microphones
|
| It goes
|
| Ghetto children, solving problems
|
| In the projects around the world |