| I woke up early once again that’s four days straight
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| I didn’t wake you baby, I just watched you lay
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| In the radiation of the city sun
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| I am in love with you, it is my only grace (Woo)
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| You know how everything can seem a little out of place?
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| All of my life that’s seemed to be the only normal state
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| So feelin' normal never really meant me feelin' sane
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| And bein' clear about the truth and bein' sane have never really been the same
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| I used to wanna get the chance to show the world I’m smart (Ha)
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| Isn’t that dumb? |
| I should’ve focused mostly on my heart
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| ‘Cause I seen smarter people trample life like it’s an art
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| So bein' smart ain’t what it used to be, that’s fuckin' dark
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| You ever notice that the worst of us have all the chips?
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| It really kinda takes the sheen off people getting rich
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| Like maybe rich is not the holy ever lovin' king of nothin' fuckers
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| Know we know you’re bluffin'
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| You are dealing with the motherfuckin' money-money runners
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| It’d be a lie if I told you that I ever disdained the fortune and fame
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| But the presence of the pleasure never abstained me from any of the pain
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| When my mother transitioned to another plane I was sitting on a plane
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| Tellin' her to hold on and she tried hard but she just couldn’t hang
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| Been two years, truth is I’ll probably never be the same
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| Dead serious, it’s a chore not to let myself go insane
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| It’s crippling, make you want lean on a cup of promethazine
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| But my queen say she need a king, not another junkie, flunky rapper fiend
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| Friends tell her he could be another Malcom, he could be another Martin
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| She told her partner I need a husband more than the world need another martyr
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| Made in Atlanta, Georgia, where I use to ride the MARTA
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| With a empty .22 in the front pocket of my Braves starter
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| Tryna make it out the mud as a baby father is much harder
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| The same children that you love, and adore, the court will use to break and rob
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| ya
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| Circumstance woulda broke weaker man, but I put it on my momma
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| I’m a man of honor and the hardship made me a better money runner
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| This is for the never heard, never even get a motherfuckin' word
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| This is for my sister Sarah, honey, I feel sorry you were hurt (Hey)
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| This is for the dawn, momma took a knock, had to change the locks
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| Dusted up but brushed off and I watched talk about a boss
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| For the holders of a shred a heart even when you wanna fall apart
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| When your surrounded by the fog, treadin' water in the ice cold dark
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| When they got you you feelin' like a fox runnin' from another pack a dogs
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| Put the pistol and the fist up in the air, we are there, swear to God
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| Black child in America, the fact that I made it was magic
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| Black and beautiful, the world broke my momma heart, and she died an addict
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| God blessed me to redeem her in my thought, words and my actions
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| Satisfaction for The Devil, goddammit, he’ll never ever have it
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| This is for the do-gooders that the no-gooders used and then abused
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| For the truth tellers tied to the whippin' post, left beaten, battered, bruised
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| For the ones whose body hung from a tree like a piece of strange fruit
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| Go hard, last words to the firing squad was, «Fuck you too» |