| Turn your back and they’ll shove a knife in your ribs
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| A father raisin' a gun while his son is fightin' a bid
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| Ironic, 'cause he ain’t really have nothin' nicer to give
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| You live the life that you love, then you’ll love the life that you live
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| So what’s the price if you did love life, but can’t afford a club night
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| With champagne taste? |
| Money is Bud Light
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| You tellin' me to be negative, that’s your blood type
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| It’s hard to sleep in a bed you made when the bugs bite
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| I’m sleepwalkin', I come outside when the streets darkn
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| Try not to oblige when you hear greed talkin'
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| I’m Frank Whit, it’s no plea bargain
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| King of my city, I’ma serve every damn fiend that I see walkin'
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| Don’t be threatened, I teach lessons
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| Don’t call me king, 'cause every king suffered a beheadin'
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| It’s seven deadly sins, better preach, reverend
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| I sever limbs with this sweet weapon, you better keep steppin'
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| I’m takin' off, I’ll see you all soon
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| What’s a mogul without his money? |
| A soldier without his war wounds
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| I’m hieroglyphics in a lost tomb
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| These are the facts, if you the richest in here, then you in the wrong room
|
| Shuckin' and jivin' get you called coon
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| Yeah, we all goons, you a cartoon
|
| You play a shark? |
| Cool, I can get you harpooned
|
| I talk to 'em like Malcolm under a dark moon, harsh tunes
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| You want the smoke? |
| I got all fumes
|
| Yeah, a sharp broom like what God use
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| In too deep, no time to argue when your skin is a dark hue
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| Little man got his heart bruised and I’m John Q
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| Had to breeze when them arms drew, yeah
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| Known to squeeze like a mongoose, alarm you
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| Indeed for this greed, niggas harm you
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| Think it’s time that you leave, don’t believe but I warned you, it’s on you (Uh)
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| Invest our spendin' in cars and bikes
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| Collect our stimulus stars and stripes
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| We left our women with scars and gripes
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| In death I’ll reminisce starvin' nights
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| Mama sent me to help out Minnie to borrow some rice
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| Them jail bars imminent, guards and fights
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| Them Ls authentic as Karl Kani
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| And they trendin' as Telfar Clemens and Charleston White, uh
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| True anomaly, deep a view as optometry
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| Numerology speakin' through this autonomy
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| While the leaders confused
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| Tell Thomas MacDonald we don’t agree with his views, but we approve of his
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| honesty
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| That Beretta too deadly, left his head in shambles
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| Packin' federal weaponry, shovelin' mega manholes
|
| Rather eat in the culture, never even to short ya
|
| Who celebrate when they see you ate with seven candles?
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| Bahamadia or Heather B?
|
| Every queen should never have to question her pedigree, that’s Kevin Samuels
|
| Orisha Orula to a kemetic G
|
| My queen, a better you is a better me, that’s Tevin Campbell
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| Why the labels embellish it, why they never cancel?
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| Propagate it to scalin' it while they sellin' scandal
|
| While the reverend rambles, Noreaga probably a better commando
|
| Schwarzenegger was Reagan’s Rambo
|
| Your blow stepped on, less shown, said, known
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| Your connect in the Rolodex, Gomez Jones
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| He with three of his groupies, give him co-ed chrome
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| Leave him with these lil' Uzis, give him four headstones
|
| Gold chain, sneakers, choose your battle in Juice WRLD
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| Where Juice WRLD shallow and Cobain’s deeper
|
| The dope game’s ether, cocaine beepers
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| Coltrane peaks the Mulsanne speakers
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| The bro can’t reach us, the woke can’t either
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| Sleepin' with Soul Train divas, we post sangria
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| I speak for my Keishas, my no-name chicas
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| Our folks ain’t teach us, our dough can’t free us
|
| You thousandnaire at the register, never popped a tag
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| Your concierge never helped you out with your shoppin' bag
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| You not a real goon, fam, you never got to pass
|
| You not a real DOOM fan, you never copped a mask
|
| Been two-steppin' since Jay-Z was yellin' «Holla back»
|
| Produced records for Shady, but never got the plaque
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| What I will retort is highly enforced
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| Invite me to war, smile in the court, then buy me a Porsche
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| Hoes colder than Debbie Allen, I’m mighty divorced
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| Those po’er than Edgar Allen who tried me before
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| Who likely a corpse
|
| Who reppin' the culture where Megan’s toes is of lesser importance than Kylie’s
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| divorce
|
| Uh, the psychology of a meth head
|
| Titty-lickin' a Masi' like I’m tryna be breastfed
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| My biggest fear is bein' sick with a problem
|
| My children ain’t proud of me, givin' an apology from my death bed
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| Greed’ll turn a friend into an enemy
|
| Turn a positive energy to a jealousy
|
| You better be aware, if you don’t wanna pay the penalty
|
| Don’t play the game if you don’t care about your legacy
|
| You tellin' me, «Check, check out my melody»
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| Can’t be my dog if I ain’t sure about your pedigree
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| Hope these words are stickin' to you like Velcro
|
| Money can’t buy you love, but it buys you everything else, though
|
| Woah |