| I got to get all this stress off my chest
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| One of my closest niggas told me he had to get a vest
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| Some niggas might be rolling up to his wifes
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| Talking about they going to rob him, put his manhood to the test
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| (Why brothers got to act so scandalous?)
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| (Mad at us) 'cos we ain’t no janitors
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| Always looking at me smiling, popping off the lip
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| Asking how much I clock, talking about my grip
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| Talking about how they saw me in a magazine, «you're looking clean»
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| (What's up with hooking up my team?) — Man, I ain’t got no label
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| When I ain’t around, my name-o is up in your mouth
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| Your whole story is fishy like you went down South
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| Acting like you’ve been around me before I was paying dues
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| You’ll never know what I’ve been through until you’ve been in these shoes (true)
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| Everybody want to act like they know
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| Everybody want to act, think, front
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| Triple egos
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| Snakes all around my back, trying to see where I at
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| Suckers acting like they know me,
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| Met them last night and now they’re talking about that they my homies
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| Yo it, always get frustrating when a nigga starts hating
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| And then be out like Walter Payton
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| Only see them when they need something
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| But never ever see them when you need something
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| That’s how it’s been so I don’t play the fool nigga
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| You should too, go back to school
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| Prepare to get used, like honeys on booze, fools
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| You choose whether you want to lose
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| But when I ain’t around, my name-o is up in your mouth
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| Your whole story is fishy like you went down South
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| Acting like you’ve been around me before I was paying dues
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| You’ll never know what I’ve been through until you’ve been in these shoes (true)
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| (Now I see) — Just another day, God bless |