| Scars and memories, Memories and scars, I look up in the sky and I wonder where
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| you are
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| Can’t nobody diss my nigga, Damn, I miss my nigga
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| Memories and scars, Scars and memories, talk to me kid cause I need some
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| guidance please
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| Can’t nobody diss my nigga, Damn, I miss my nigga
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| Scars and memories, Memories and scars, I look up in the sky and I wonder where
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| you are
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| Can’t nobody diss my nigga, Damn, I miss my nigga
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| I’m writing this letter from Lenox Hill Hospital
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| I’m so sorry, that I missed your funeral
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| But silhouettes of you are trapped inside my head
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| As I lay in ICU hangin on wishin I was dead
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| Tryin to convince someone to pull the plug and let it end
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| I lost my best friend, plus I’ll never walk again
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| Now that you’re gone, it really don’t matter
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| Becomin a star, becomin a superstar
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| God threw rocks at my glass heart and it shattered, I look up in the sky and I
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| wonder where you are
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| Cryin like a baby, starin atcha pictcha (picture)
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| I’m mad at the world kid, I’m wishin I was with ya
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| The world is on my shoulders now the weight is kinda heavy
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| I loved my little shorty but my little shorty left me
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| In a few minutes time, with the help of a nine
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| I went from king of the rhymes to the victim of crime. |
| I gotta stop,
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| and wipe my tears G
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| Ayo J, respond, let me know you hear me
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| You will walk again, J. Black won’t letcha down
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| As for rap, represent, and snatch the fuckin crown
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| Fuck to most these rappers, cause you know they’re not your friends
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| So don’t wait for no battle, bring the noise straight to them
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| I don’t give a damn if the nigga is ya idol
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| Implant in his head that he better think survival
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| I don’t give a fuck about his crew or the fame, each one of them niggas step to
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| them and blow em off the frame
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| But J I want the days, when we were just chillin
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| Ridin around in cars, dressin nice, and countin millions
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| Those days are over for us so understand, you my man, but it’s time to step
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| forward and represent the fam
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| Like I’m Jesus Christ, I’m payin for our sins
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| Take these niggas to war for me, let the games begin
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| I want you off the street cause the street is not the move
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| Don’t let me die for nothin, test your skills, show and prove
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| Niggas think they ill, but show em you are iller
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| In the past yo we killed but wasn’t raised to be no killers
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| Money and murder’s hand in hand, it goes with territory
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| Manhattan war stories, what a price to pay for glory. |
| Cash Rules…
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| But everyone around us is not down with us, they front, when they’re around us
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| There’s jealousy, envy, niggas wanna hurt me
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| I can’t move my legs, J so that shit just hurts me
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| Right now I’d be better off dyin G
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| I don’t think that I can function in society
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| Cause I paid the cost, you paid the cost, the family paid the cost,
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| and now I’m feelin lost
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| Because you went away
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| And now my skies are gray
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| I don’t know what to feel
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| I don’t know what to say
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| I don’t know what to do
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| I need you to impinge
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| My life is like a door, hanging off the hinge
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| I try to improvise, and go with the flow
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| But to my surprise, the flow is so slow
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| I’m really confused, advice you have to give
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| I’m not afraid to die, but right now I’m afraid to live
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| I don’t know my title so I’m a little sad man
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| What’s the difference between a genius and a madman?
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| A genius is exceptional, he breaks down the whole
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| Mad men are not men, they do have a goal
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| To be a genius or a madman is in your mind…
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| But is it possible for the two to intertwine?
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| Yes, when a genius uses poems, just to focus on crime, greed, or make nuclear
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| bombs all the time
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| In this materialistic world is there any kind of hope?
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| (Nope) Will Catholics ever have a black Pope?
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| I write rhymes like Riddler
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| List them like Schindler
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| Alot of religious figures on this planet are just swindlers
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| Sight beyond sight, those of twilight, the afterlife, a new world is what I like
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| You don’t like Commandments but just do them
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| Aight, but when you talk to God again could you give these questions to him?
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| They can’t be too long, cause he’s a busy man, so tell me about six,
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| and I’ll relay em if I can
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| God, (one) Why’s my mighty nation lost?
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| (two) Why’d you let Jesus Christ be put on the cross?
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| (three) Why’s my people poor and oh so sore?
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| (aiight) In harlem all I see is funeral homes and liquor stores
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| (four) Why’d you let the Indians get used and abused?
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| (five) Why’d you let Hitler crucify all the jews?
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| (alright) some races will never see the best outta life
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| (true) it’s like you made a big ass test outta life
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| I got love for you God, but could you explain to me
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| (six) why you took my legs and J and dished out so much pain to me?
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| Don’t stress it, kid. |
| It’s life, and not even death can seperate the love |