| Love from the hood
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| In honor only bestowed on those who showed the hood the most unwavering of
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| loyalties
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| I’m talking street niggas
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| Most literally from cradle to grave
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| Most literally from corn to the court
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| Most literally niggas who look the block in their last moments gasping for air
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| Right before yellow tapes make a spectacle of their bodies raw on cement
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| If the hood loves you, should make a monument of this location
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| Forever been a force, y’all lit the torch inside my inner thoughts
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| A nigga lost, ironic I finds myself in the nicks of court
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| You’r immature, think every minut’s yours, that’s miniature
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| Like minotaurs, a bull-headed nigga, don’t like to listen, dog
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| Let’s finish off, I been to your hell, am I a sinner? |
| Sure
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| But look, it’s a ray from that rifle that keeps that lid secure
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| But what’s gon' make us kick in them doors
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| This here is neither chess nor checkers, nigga, this shit is war
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| You’ve been a fraud, I’d forfeit if I was you, a prophet’s view
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| The love could make you strong, but the hate will make you unstoppable
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| What I can do is show you the vision for every obstacle
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| What not to do, and turn the improbable to a possible
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| (Let's fucking go)
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| Now these rappers is name calling
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| Don’t gamble with your mic and end up like a James Jordan (Damn)
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| I know you feel when them flames roaring
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| Rain pouring, flood your ears with the fears of me brainstorming
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| Aim crawling through the mud with fatigues, I’m in pain warring
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| But me and Payne is equivalent to a plane soaring
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| (I'm built for this shit)
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| I relived horrors to make you men quiver, intense nigga
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| I’m just a kingpin with a king’s pen, nigga
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| Verses are 10k, I move like MJ with the blicker
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| Black ruger, king caged since 10th grade with my niggas
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| A mogul, I signed rappers, I get paid to get bigger
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| Shit is bittersweet, I mix the lemonade with the liquor, wooh
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| Amazingly dope, Payne, baby, they say he the GOAT
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| Big Daddy Kane and Wayne Gacy on coke
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| A mix of Hulkamania and Tray Chaney, I’m both
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| I’m religiously counting digits, Pennsylvania’s pope, Payne
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| Sharp imagery, dark energy
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| Part Hennessey, uncertain future with harsh memories
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| Yeah, the kid is a star, that’s authentically
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| I’m obese, Roseanne bars, I scarred enemies, wooh
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| These suckers, they don’t respect the flex
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| I’m calling shots right from the chair like I’m Professor X
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| Chopper got a tripod, that’s an erector set
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| Etch a sketch you right out the picture, that’s a direct effect
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| My plan vivid, I handpicked it, this man wicked
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| You understand, me and Ran is a pandemic
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| See, they gave me the light and I ran with it
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| Two champions exchanging punches, Duran, Leonard
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| Motherfucker |