| Is it looking Good? |
| Looking right
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| you can’t see me My perspective is a bird’s eye view
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| Meaning you ain’t looking at me when I’m looking at you
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| Crooked angles logged all up in my book
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| Of logistics tales in the places we done took it Like this shit
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| Niggaz will do this to get attention
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| Flashing and flossing, fronting like they rich with
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| No intellectual enrichment
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| They pull up to the light thinking it’s all right
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| And get their wigs split
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| By the local town jacker
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| Act the fool smack the fool with the back of the tool
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| Doing dirt not caring who he hurt not
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| Even unaware the gunshots came tearing through his shirt
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| From one of the many people that he robbed before
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| At the same intersection
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| Now with his chest blown into sections
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| He realizes the wrong of his ways as a victim of one that he victimized who
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| Didn’t know the boys in blue
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| Was alerted of the murder when they heard the noize
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| Plus seen the sparks when they rushed to the scene
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| The hero was still there so his ass got caught
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| And my perspective is a bird’s eye view
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| Meaning you ain’t looking at me when I’m looking at you
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| Crooked angles logged all up in my book
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| Of logistics tales in the places we done took it Like sideways
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| Peddle to the medal on the highway
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| Trying to escape the bird of the ghetto
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| I can’t settle for federal indictment
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| You think I’m head over heels
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| For fake thrills
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| Pseudo excitement?
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| Never gave me a bit of enlightment
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| But I must be liberated to keep my life like lit
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| So I stay smarter than the average bear
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| Without a boo-boo, a fuck or a care
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| Just aware
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| Of what’s around
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| Whenever my feet touch the ground
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| I’m mentally muscle bound
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| With wit, wisdom
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| Precision and vision and myself in prison
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| Isn’t it all how I’m living?
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| So my perspective is a bird’s eye view
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| Meaning you ain’t looking at me when I’m looking at you
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| Crooked angles logged all up in my book
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| Of logistics tales in the places we done took it From over here to over there
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| But sad while feared
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| Dastardly, daring debonaire
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| I got the master key to the game that claim is locked
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| But I kick in the door with my trigger gun cock
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| You never knew
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| What I would do To get the revenue
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| I’d watch 'cha til I got 'cha
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| Then I’ll let it lose
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| Like propositions, bills and laws
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| They make to break y’all
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| But still we ball
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| Going all out
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| Never the fan to fall out
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| My energy peeks for weeks
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| And what I seek is Height and awareness, fine tune and perception
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| A slippable style with a smile — perfection
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| My perspective is a bird’s eye view
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| Meaning you ain’t looking at me when I’m looking at you
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| Crooked angles logged all up in my book
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| Of logistics tales in the places we done took it you can’t see me |