| I was known on the throne
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| With your own light of home
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| Fully charged from the stars
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| On life through the cars
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| I unwound on the moon
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| On a chopless nightless crew
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| Showing myself in the light
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| Being myself all the while
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| Sun unstill until sin is still
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| Cause sin is still in our sons instilled
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| Sinister minds
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| Sinister plans of sinister dudes
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| Sinister motives sinister moves
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| Sinister shine on sinister move
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| Sinister hearts ride sinister grooves
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| Sinister ranks 'mongst sinister crews
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| This one here from me to you
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| Started off rude ill finish you smooth
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| His tools crude while mines just fluid
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| Mirror please tell him he’s the dude
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| Principles claimed but none pursued
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| Telling his bitch «bitch that’s my groove!»
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| Tell her come time to show & prove
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| A lottery win the peaches choose
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| Motto be: Dog, to each his groove
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| In the jungles I’m follow through
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| Every down is an audible
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| ‘Cause every style I rock is swallowed whole
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| Some are all mine some outright stole
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| Some of them foes some be your bros
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| This another fly one y’all can blow
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| Corny ass fucks are thrown in dough
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| Pimpin' on top his paper throne
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| My richness is incalculable
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| My tacoma whips my falcon soar
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| My pimpage passions palpable
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| Huey beats and Malcolm flow
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| Intimacies I doubt you know
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| Down in them grooves you can’t even go
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| Fuckin' with me she stay aglow
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| Parallel lines and magic stones
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| All of our stories told in codes
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| From a FuturesPast platoon
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| Brought forth in rhymes
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| A secret memory of way better times
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| When we was raisin' high
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| Couldn’t sell us none of this shit
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| You could back us against that wall
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| But you’d hear that click, another clip
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| I’m asking where did it go?
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| What happened to my folks?
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| Beauty bought by empty corp
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| Loving what you don’t
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| I can’t understand
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| Why we couldn’t hold sway
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| And place ourselves behind all these things we paved the way
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| When they basking in your glow, they smile
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| Keen observers notice something bitch up in the style
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| Jealous fellas to no code betrode
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| All his accolades are self bestowed
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| Plot his talents through his master’s mill
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| But never tell us what’s behind the veil
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| Don’t drink, don’t smoke, don’t jux
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| Don’t sniff, don’t coke, don’t strap
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| I was raised to figure that’s your rat
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| Between hell and high water he froze
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| Incandescent rivers I just glows and flows
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| Well
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| I just got chose
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| I can no longer minister to your sinister grooves |