| Yeah
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| Uh-huh
|
| Beautiful evils
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| Yeah
|
| Check me out
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| Crutches, crosses, caskets
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| Crutches, crosses, caskets
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| All I see is victims
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| My young niggas sic' ‘em
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| I don’t get ‘em
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| I just get back their jewelry if I’m fuckin' with ‘em
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| Your man crush Mondays be owin' niggas
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| My skin is triple black, I’m the omen
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| You can’t kill a God like the Romans, uh
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| Take my time to craft shit
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| ‘Cause I don’t like back and forths with Puff about rap shit
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| Crutches, crosses, caskets
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| Crutches, crosses, caskets
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| All I see is victims
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| Rappers is victimized at an all-time high
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| But not I, you pop niggas thought I let it fly
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| I’m Yasiel Puig, I’m in another league
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| I defected, only thing we have in common, niggas bleed
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| In ya thousand dollar joggers as you rhyme about ya dollars
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| Is there shame when a platinum rapper’s mother lives in squalor?
|
| Mildred’s in the Bahamas for the month
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| She’s probably sitting in her pajamas having lunch
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| Swordfish, my reality is more fish
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| Banana clips for all you Curious Georges
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| Old niggas slapping young niggas
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| Ha Imagine that, where you from nigga?
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| Crutches, crosses, caskets
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| Crutches, crosses, caskets
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| All I see is death by the masses
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| The only asterisk is the change of address
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| My infinity pool as long as Magic’s
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| Yeah I let Zillow change my pillows
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| The home is so inviting, the Porsche is the armadillo
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| The silhouette
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| The pop, pop, pop; |
| the chop, chop, chop
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| The throwaway TEC’s got Tourettes
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| It’s more than this drug money, I love money
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| I speak to your soul and that’s above money
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| This the ministry of street energy
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| The church of criminology, teaching my chemistries
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| Woo I’m the L. Ron Hubbard of the cupboard
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| To some certain motherfuckers gotta love it
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| Crutches, crosses, caskets
|
| Crutches, crosses, caskets
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| All I see is victims
|
| Crutches, crosses, caskets
|
| Crutches, crosses, caskets
|
| All I see is victims |