| Rap
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| Eric G
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| Cultural varying
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| One Love for black music
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| Jamla is the squad
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| Well Alright
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| These are the Brad Pitts
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| Legends of fall fall
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| Thinking of Michael and Whitney burns me like alcohol
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| Every night momma call, giving me more advice
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| Things in media got her fearing my music life
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| All of the bright lights, all of the fallen stars
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| Pray for the black kids all the leaders they grew up on
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| Moving along fast, feeling like day fast
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| Digesting’s a hard task, all I want is our music back
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| Reagan Era dope rap, Mercedes to Maybach
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| Black rappers unless we gon' keep to drive that
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| Gunnin' runnin' 110 an hour 'till the wheels flat
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| We permanent like two tats on hoodrats nigga fuck that
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| Yo, first LB break up, now every day I wake up to more bullshit
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| I couldn’t make up, tre like a Laker
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| Handle with my face up, the lord pray I shall not quit
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| So catch me, running like a stampede of horses
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| Rings around you niggas, polygamy no divorces
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| Passing you like some courses, lay you flatter than forces
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| Houses with old porches surrounded with country orchards
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| It’s the beginning of forever
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| Raining on parades in places they thought we’d never weather
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| Whether, radio ever play a nigga
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| I don’t make music for radio but for niggas
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| My nigga, my people, a weapon I need though
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| Better get down on your knees and pray to heaven I don’t see you
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| Nigga the line’s been drawn
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| Niggas taking shots I guess the wicked get stoned
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| So some other fuckers buy cars and get blown
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| No respect, no respect, no respect homes
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| While Niggas in Paris they ballin' Watching the Throne
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| I was at home, yo
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| I was on the phone, telling momma hold on
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| This music shit hard if you plan to be lone
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| Like legends of the fall, legends have fallen
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| Michael, Whitney, just want you to know that you’re all in
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| My memory |