| From the place where the bullshit begins,
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| never a shortage of tricks begins to spin,
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| Night life turns trife as the day puts on;
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| Locs, brothers hanging on corners kicking rhymes and jokes.
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| The ladies pass by without a word or a «Hi»
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| Nose all in the air, you can see 'em everywhere
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| Salute the dope man with the twist of a blunt
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| People Under the you-know, we turning it up
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| Young city slicker, I’m all about the terrain
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| Give me the money and fame and I’ll show you no pain,
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| Leave a stain on your brain you can remember me by,
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| Years down the line you still know that I’m fly
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| High power in yella the fat fella
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| Everything that I do is hella hell of a story teller
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| I paint scenes with a pen, hip hop bar
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| Turn the page, check out the brother flaws
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| ((get hip to yourself good God my brother, get it))
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| Coming from the home of Fat Lip and Fellowship
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| Get hip, jump in the whip, never we have tripped
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| This is L.A. in a nutshell, ship when the shit tell
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| You can hear my way, put your ear to the seashell
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| And get hip to the sixteenth letter, the type setter
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| With the font you want, avante garde at getting better
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| By the minute I admit it, committed to classic rap
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| This is not a snapback throwback you know that
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| The Walmart crews that copy cats should roll back
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| Home of the power flower Cali we grow that
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| In the Golden state, my state, my rhyme craft like Minecraft
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| Going block to block building to make a new path
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| The legends in my ledger, it’s been my pleasure
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| My treasures respect, it hangs around my neck
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| Like 2Chainz if he got two brains to take charge
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| Like Bad Brainswho rock like high-powered guitars
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| Get hip to yourself good God
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| (get it---) |