| Oh, oh, oh
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| Oh oh oh
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| Oh, oh
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| Oh
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| Where’s your head?
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| Where’s your soul? |
| Your heart?
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| Where’s your love? |
| Your care?
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| Where’s your life? |
| Your scars?
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| You’re lost
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| Ah, ah, ah, look
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| Earth can be so lonely, glad we’re all in heaven
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| Bet he can count a dollar, couldn’t count a blessing
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| Ayy, where’s your head? |
| You neck-less for a fuckin' necklace
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| (Fuckin' necklace)
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| Ooh, put that shit on record, bet they get the message
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| Just like after the beep
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| Wear my rap on my sleeve, wear my heart on my tongue
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| Where you think that I speak from its blood on my teeth
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| Like a opp nigga, we opposed
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| I’m at the crib playin' neo-soul
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| Dropped out, I don’t need a loan
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| That same school bookin' me a show
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| Droppin' college collect like an audit
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| I’m a artist problem, what you call it?
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| I’m an honest artist so they honor
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| Or we fightin' fans like Ron Artest
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| I’m the coldest out, I’m so arctic
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| And I’m from the same place the solids come from
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| And I run shit like Sonic
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| With my songs and all of my sonnets signin'
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| Where’s your head?
|
| Where’s your soul? |
| Your heart?
|
| Where’s your love? |
| Your care?
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| Where’s your life? |
| Your scars?
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| You’re lost
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| Ooh, ooh
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| Food can make you forget that the world is famished
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| They on me like the new kid, this my college campus, ooh
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| All these women want me like my name was Channing
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| Tatum, I don’t even take 'em, y’all can all still have 'em
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| Like I got my own, greed kill man, man still’ll want more
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| Niggas spoon fed, talkin' bout they poor
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| Niggas be broke talkin' like they on, on
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| I don’t really care what oppers say though
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| They change they self for compensation
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| Last year I just had to lay low
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| Now pass the torch like hot potato, aheh
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| 'Cause I’m on it, take the green line out west to Austin
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| Dropped the best project since The Chronic
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| Like a nerd freshman how I’m locked in
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| I been, aheh, off that, dub, a nigga then I don’t rematch
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| Grind mode, nigga I don’t relax, ayy, go ‘head, play this back
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| Sab
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| Where’s your head?
|
| Where’s your soul? |
| Your heart?
|
| Where’s your love? |
| Your care?
|
| Where’s your life? |
| Your scars?
|
| You’re lost
|
| Where’s your head?
|
| Where’s your soul? |
| Your heart?
|
| Where’s your love? |
| Your care?
|
| Where’s your life? |
| Your scars?
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| You’re lost
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| I tell 'em
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| «Pop that trunk, 'cause sound deaf»
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| Got kush and I smoke that blunt 'cause I’m blessed (Woo)
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| Flow with the funk then I’m fresh
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| And I got that 'cause I come from out west
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| I was raised around thugs and ballers
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| Somethin' was happenin' whenever I come through
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| Hangin' with the gang or with the crew
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| Anxious just to show what I could do
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| And though the gas will spark, when it got real dark
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| We were gon' take it to Garfield park
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| To the holy city, yeah K-Town
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| And go downtown so I can show 'em that I’m real sharp
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| Ain’t nobody fuckin' with us
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| Circumstances hurt your chances when you see how we comin'
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| On my mama, Saba when he got the OG on me
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| Homie, no wait, we don’t want nothin'
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| Breakin atoms if we causin' destruction
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| Makin' patterns if we causin' eruptions
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| Second thoughts if you see us in the functions
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| Smokin 'weed if you see us into somethin'
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| Do ya thang and make ya money, stack ya paper
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| Go ahead, represent ya crew
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| As long as you respect the west side of Chi'
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| Do what the fuck you wanna do
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| Twista
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| Where’s your head?
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| Where’s your soul? |
| Your heart?
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| Where’s your love? |
| Your care?
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| Where’s your life? |
| Your scars?
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| You’re lost
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| Comin' from one of them avenue babies, hailin' from the west side,
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| nigga tryna make it to the Grammy’s, at least somewhere. |
| Somewhere more than
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| where a mothafucka been. |
| Bucket list means something like, ya know you ever set
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| up and dream and dreamed a dream and that dream done came true? |
| Ha ha ha ha ha.
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| .chuuuuuuch |