| The type of song that I don’t ever need a beat to write to
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| The type to make a hippie and Mahatma Ghandi fight you
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| The type to make you wait cause you ain’t got the right to
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| Surrounded by the bars but your cellie never write you
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| I’m in the studio and Chris giving me lectures
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| Thats big bro I can’t dismiss it as simple conjecture
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| He tellin me that my style is a felony
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| Wavy like a marina but I sound misdemeanor
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| Hold on, lets talk about that real life
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| That pray Jehovah get me over while I kneel life
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| That hit they body with shotty if they squeal life
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| That make a song about whatever thing I feel like, real life
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| I’m back to black ski mask
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| Back to the beat bodies im back to the rap repass
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| Before I let a peon play
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| He gotta debt homey he gon' pay ole
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| The pressure
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| Weighing down on me
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| Things I did that I can’t take back
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| All the time that I can’t get back
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| Everything that you stole from me
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| Feeling alone with this anger inside
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| You can’t see life through my eyes
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| Got to let it go
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| Help me let it go
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| Its not about me |
| I wanted Redd to spit something you know he a legend
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| You yearn for that co sign if only for a second
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| And the fact I even know him is truly a blessing
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| Be he can’t talk about what I’m confessing this a lesson
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| To the people that never knew better
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| This PK is a relay life
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| People always taking from you never repay life
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| So it’s a whole other animal when we say life
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| Imagine that, you a grown man although you a kid
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| Never alone cuz pops at home
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| But everybody always calling on your pops at home
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| To the point that you ain’t feeling like your pops at home
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| Imagine that everybody gunning for your category
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| Nobody care about infringing on your territory
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| But you can understand God gotta get the glory
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| He can talk to you I ain’t bothering him for a story
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| Me and my brother we cover each other
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| I see my mother suffer, I seen my pops cry
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| A lot people only family on Sundays
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| Can’t afford true love so they rather cop lies
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| I seen pride try to kill the fold
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| I seen women turn bitter cause they gettin' old
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| I seen brothers who ain’t never have mother |
| Turn they back on my mother for a nickel and a centerfold
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| But still the word go forth
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| It only matter that they eyes go north, and we can hold that torch
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| I love that the body is awaken back
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| But I wish that I could take em' back real talk
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| This my debt collection, I need a price correction
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| I’m paying back the man that’s looking in my own reflection
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| And tellin' you the way it is how I show affection
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| This is life addressing, its what the mic addressing
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| This my debt collection, I need all of that
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| I’m repossessing if you got it then I want it back
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| They was running in my pockets they could crawl it back
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| I want all of that I need all of that |