| These motherfuckers make me laugh
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| They L-A-F, they Lame As Fuck
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| Look at how they dress
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| They L-A-F, they Lame As Fuck
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| Listen how they rap
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| They L-A-F, they Lame As Fuck
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| Trying to say they fresh, trying to say they tough
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| You ain’t ever been about it, you just make shit up
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| You lame as fuck
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| You ain’t spittin' and your music don’t jam
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| Try to study me like I’m a student exam
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| Hard for me to take a lyricist serious
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| Especially a dude in sweatpants wearing unisex Vans
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| What was you expecting, made a song 'Fuck Swag' and
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| Ain’t nobody say shit, I guess they afraid if
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| They get out of line I’m 'bout to have to grave dig
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| A great big hole, kill him, leave them where you lay bitch
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| A.K.A Mr. Make-'em-Wanna-Rewrite
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| I guess I’m the one they want to be like
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| These guys get a feature from me study me on every record
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| Then they switch they whole style up
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| Homie I can see right through it
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| You ain’t never used to chop like that
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| Now you talk about your girl and your struggle
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| Tryin' to get it, how you did a lot of soft
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| How you’re pissed off at your boss
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| You ain’t used to have the same 9 to 5 I had
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| Need to find your own lane, you and I might crash
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| Get in mine, hope you had a good time, (I'm back)
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| Rap game looking like Revenge of the Nerds
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| And ya pants and ya shirt too tight, is that plaid?
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| We ain’t seeing eye to eye like I have an eye patch
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| No class having motherfucker you can die
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| You gone wish you had a life raft
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| My style is hijacked, did I kill him, my bad
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| With your lame ass socks showing, stop trolling
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| Going online posing with your Glock showing
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| You ain’t never shot no one, stop lying you are not blowing
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| Trying to copy me, you thinking I would not notice
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| Cockroaches couldn’t see me like they got some glaucoma
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| Comment under my photos bout the way that I look
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| I bet that I could get your lady to fuck
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| And suck dick, quicker than you
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| You said the two of you was in love
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| You’re lame as fuck and I bet that you the type of dude to come up
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| And tell me that I look familiar, knowing damn well ya
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| Seen my videos and know my name and it would kill ya
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| Not to be lame so instead I gotta tell ya
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| Washed up rappers acting like I owe 'em something
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| When I needed them before I made it, they would never help ya
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| Lame ass homies wanna party at my crib
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| So they can drink up all my liquor they don’t ever buy they-self none
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| They say they recording, you ain’t got songs
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| Tryna say you performing, you ain’t got fans
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| But it’s hard to ignore 'em, lame motherfucker
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| Probably like, foam-a-sites, always rockin' team Jordans
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| Lame ass bitches insecure and distorted
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| She tried shave her head on some Cassie shit
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| Now she thinkin' she gorgeous
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| Never keeps a boyfriend, she fucking everybody, little nasty bitch
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| A lot of people in my city try to say that they relate to me
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| But still so many in Atlanta don’t appreciate a thing
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| I did or even heard of me
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| Its almost like they trained to be a slave to what they playin' on the radio
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| They proceed to put me in a cage because my record label Strange
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| They need to listen, if they did they’d probably end up devastated
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| We don’t play, we put the music business in a Strangeulation
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| Other record labels lame to me, these motherfuckers L-A-F
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| Actin' hard, never take a day off (they L-A-F)
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| Still rappin', shit’ll never pay off (they L-A-F)
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| Still trappin' acting like a straight boss (they L-A-F)
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| Get arrested, they confessing, they decide to play ball (they L-A-F)
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| They be actin' like we cooler than we are
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| If I met you doing music, don’t be stupid, this a job
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| You are not a friend of mine, just a dude I never call
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| Bombing on 'em, Shock and Awe |