| Damn, this beat is crazy
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| Who made??? |
| Oh, I did, haha
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| Let me just update
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| I’ve been balancin' my chakras in the mountains out in Utah
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| I know I’m the greatest, that’s the energy I move off
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| I don’t even gotta play the game like Luol
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| To still get paid more than you all
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| I might buy a new loft just to entertain hoes
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| I rarely fuck with white chicks, but shout out to the Wayans bros
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| Every woman’s beautiful, I’m just givin' personal stats
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| A real boss, I fund it from my personal stash
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| I’ma touch a hundred million by thirty-five (No doubts)
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| And next year I’m goin' platinum like thirty times (Uh-huh)
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| And if my twenties told me anything (What?)
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| It’s stay away from pople who put money over verything
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| That’s a liability, me and doubt severed the ties
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| I be talkin' to myself to get expert advice
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| Can’t be stuck in the past and put my heart in a trance
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| When I stumble, I’m aware, that’s just part of the dance
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| Prosperity, that’s the clear visual, right?
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| Got my girl tapped into her spiritual side
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| I’m the G.O.A.T, I give people hope
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| I make people feel like they’re rich when they’re broke
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| I’m slittin' rappers' throats, kill 'em all, fuck 'em (Fuck 'em)
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| If you don’t show love 'til I’m dead you gettin' jumped, and
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| I’ll be cheerin' them on from my casket (Ha)
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| Haven’t seen a rapper who’s talked shit that we gave a pass yet
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| Access, I still got the same as the major labels
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| They wait 'til you got a table, then they take the table
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| Through the speakers, I give life to the dreamers, so it’s deeper
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| I don’t got fans, I got believers
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| Put my face on t-shirt, I ain’t even dead yet
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| Just made a hundred thousand, I ain’t even leave my bed yet
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| Nothing went right, so I went left
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| To myself I said, «Yes,» a B is in my head and my headrest
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| Women fall in love with me
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| Bosses know what’s up with me
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| You don’t gotta fuck with me, I fuck with me
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| Luckily I’m free, regardless if they mass-hated
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| Unlike most of these rappers who economically are castrated
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| 'Cause y’all don’t own your music, y’all don’t have a fuckin' voice
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| 'Til a promoter hires y’all, y’all are unemployed
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| Livin' check to check, that could never be me
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| Like Hov said, «Own your own or you can never be free
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| ,» stupid
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| The level up is what y’all currently watchin'
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| Y’all are regional, me, I’ve been currency swappin'
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| Y’all are seasonal, me, bitch, I’m currently poppin'
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| I got the power so you know at times the journey’s exhaustin'
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| My bank account’s a fat bastard
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| I’m a member of some gold and platinum plaques
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| I ain’t lyin', Matt Stafford
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| The bag snatcher, last laugher, ass slapper
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| Pressed a couple whack rappers
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| This game is full of backstabbers, not back scratchers
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| When my back itched, I had to use the wall and bounce back after
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| Ridin' in the Ghost, ask Casper
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| Model givin' throat, she don’t got a gag factor
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| The gas that I own could fill a whole grass pasture
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| My story isn’t finished, this is not the last chapter
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| Your money’s young, it’s too short, dawg, you got a bad password
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| The devil’s in disguise, can’t use your eyes to unmask her
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| Gotta trust your gut, listen to your intuition
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| I’m the shit the game’s missin', ya-dee, ya-dee
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| Y’all get it, ha
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| CHOMP 2 on the way, maybe I’ll put this on there, I don’t know |