| By any means, my enemy is in plenty reach
|
| So if the need is get 'em leant to get a lead
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| Then shit’ll lean, like literally, hit 'em clean
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| Until they clean off the mirror, like «shit is me»
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| And then I’m trying to regroup thoughts
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| All these plans I was making to get me moved off
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| And didn’t know it, right
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| Now that I know it right
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| I’m ducking cameras on the corner trying to blow the lights
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| Blowing lights, car covered in scars, cutting the smog
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| And the smoke screens under the stars, what a facade
|
| When the smoke seems up and beyond I bust a U-ey
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| I’m Old School, all of my slang is that truly
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| Pardon me if I’m different
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| Part of me’s reminiscing
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| And part of me’s 20/20
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| So part of me wouldn’t miss it
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| Part of me’s Montclair and part is Nautica sweats
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| Part of me’s by the stairs, and part of me’s on a jet
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| But all of me’s the embodiment of a Yankee fitted
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| The only one who was riding up with a Yankee in it
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| Fuck it though, chalk it up to the rap
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| Nobody introduced me to Nia so now I’m back
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| Like, can it all be so simple now? |
| Can it be?
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| When everyone that you a fan of is a fan of me?
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| I use that to try to see what just this fandom be
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| And if it don’t go as planned, then I just plan to leave
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| Leave before it turns and they swear it didn’t
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| By any means you saw the difference
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| Raised as a witness like Jill Scott and the Jacksons
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| But born the day before Christmas oh shit I’m probably backwards
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| I’m living out of a wrapper
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| Gold ones to be honest
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| With big XLs all over them if you jocking
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| Just being honest, something nobody ever is
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| Relevant problems because the problem is relevance
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| Invincible in the memo section
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| Mo’erfuckers shoulder reading, trying to get a reflection
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| By any means
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| I’m trying to make it all make sense
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| Or talk money on the beat so we can all pay rent
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| Playing Cody Chesnutt the theme song
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| Nothing but an open heart for me to lean on
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| Trying to get my green grown
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| Children singing out to the high heavens
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| Lord please help us help us not to be clones
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| Wherever we roam
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| I feel the load weigh heavily telling them reload
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| I just want peace though
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| Peace within us are in
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| Peace from within shines brighter than the stars
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| And the cars and the shards of the jewel
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| And the bezel, the tools to dishevel
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| The views of the youth that are used as a vessel
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| To tell the truth, I used to dream of it too
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| But tell me, what’s an honest Commie to do?
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| I mean the obvious route
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| Stack it up to give it back and what not
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| Instead of stack to get a pad with a yacht
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| By any means, I’m trying to feed my people
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| Need to do or you die
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| Until I’m in the zoo in the sky
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| Almighty Open am I
|
| By any means, my enemy was in plenty reach
|
| Tried to passenger seat it and balance him and me
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| Shit ain’t working so now I’m trying to get where he be
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| And Subzero that mo’erfucker within his sleep
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| Looking down at a mirror where his pillow be
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| Reached for him and got to it to keep him sleep
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| No hustle involved, but I was beating me
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| Know the hustle involved if should you see him leave
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| Know we run to the stars whenever we in reach
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| How they come through in cars that we don’t seem to see |