| Superstar, man I’m far from an average Joe, supernatural
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| Stepping out, looking like I’m in a fashion show
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| Came into this industry and now you’re witnessing me blow up
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| Like seeing a tank of gas explode
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| And I’m, I’m high like a flight I’m sitting back of coach
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| By the window sipping Jack and Cokes
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| 'Bout to pack a bowl but we ain’t tryna bake a casserole
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| Looking at the globe from up high, shots fired
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| Like Kennedy was riding by the Grassy Knoll
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| I ain’t rich but I got a little cash to blow
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| And haters saying that I’m changing
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| I be looking at them laughing like they cracked a joke
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| They wasn’t with me when I traveled down this gravel road
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| GC, I could never have my pass revoked
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| So step up and you a dead duck
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| Get your head bust, looking like a chef just cracked a yolk
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| Speakers in the Cadi' rattling the patio
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| When the industry was only rocking platinum gold
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| I was dope back then, but you had the whole
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| Shit locked until I came in and cracked the code
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| And I don’t, I don’t really mean to brag and boast
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| But then again, my fans look at me as the G.O.A.T
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| She said she listen to my music in the bath and soak
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| Now that’s a rap to quote, hop in my 'Lac and float
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| Take a puff and it’s up and away we go
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| Put some pimp shit on my radio and bounce, bounce, ah
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| Let the bass vibrate my chest, take it to the Midwest
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| Run it back to the south, and bounce, out
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| With my homie Tony footwork
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| Up at Kalamazoo, balling out up in the mall
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| We don’t bounce 'til we spend a couple thousand on shoes
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| I’m repping clientele, how can I lose, you out of the loop
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| These music dudes are clueless who I was
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| 'Til I blew, producing woohs and oohs and ahs
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| I’m the truth, but you confuse the use of pride
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| I refuse to lose, been booed and crucified
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| Disapprove the movement, crews get brutalized
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| Or these pooches choose to bite, get euthanized
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| I’m the new, the who, but soon gets neutralized
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| Twenty twos are huge, my shoes are supersized
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| I don’t cruise, my music boom, it’s stupid loud
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| Bumping 8 Ball &MJG, from the outside looking in
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| I’m sitting on top of the world, but then again I kind of been lately
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| Cause I pull up in my Cadillac, my speakers got that rattle back
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| I’m flashin metal when I was attacked by
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| A couple pretty bitches that was begging me to pick em up
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| And take em in and fuck em from the back side
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| But I ain’t got no time to fuck around, I’m tryna buckle down
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| And focus on my money, so I stack my
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| Paper to the ceiling, I’m feeling like a billion
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| I’m filling up my cup with that crown and bounce out
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| Smoking wood, then I’m gone
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| So far that you can’t even see me through the eyes of a telescope
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| Diamonds on my body, split a pill while jottin' down my feelins'
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| Acting like it was the realest shit I ever wrote
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| Mental telepathy is part of the recipe
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| That let me know that you want it
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| I’m giving it to you how you like it
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| Biology of a pimp, it be in the DNA
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| To know what you thinking
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| I’m speaking to you like a psychic
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| Lil mama know she lovin it so don’t try to fight it
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| I can make your life so appealing by the way I write it
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| Make it so she the only shawty I know
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| On Forgiatos, don’t hit no potholes
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| I roll up one and light it
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| On the passenger side of a ride
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| Like a player, I’m a be up in the cut talking the big shit
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| Strange Music, we be the misfits
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| Come and twist Rittz, tisk tisk, cause you gon get your shit split
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| Middle of the map and nigga finna snap
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| And let em know the area continue to kill em forever, we on
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| Better be strong to live in the city I come from
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| And if you ain’t fucking with it then let it be known
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| And we can either talk about it or be about it
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| Me I’d rather sit back and blow an ounce
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| When I hear something like this up on the radio
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| All a nigga can do is just bounce |