| The star of the story we love so well, well enough to repeat, imitation’s
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| flattery and everything it precedes,
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| Imitation happens to be everything we believe, and everything we see leave,
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| But leaving doesn’t come with us so never would we leave,
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| So if there’s ever a moment you do see leave,
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| Then it was live or die, it fit you like a reply,
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| And then all of the attention is with you until you blind,
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| And then all that you was given was written for you to find,
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| As true as the religion concealing your .45,
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| .45's and gauges, Macs in fact, it switch places, act for act,
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| It switch stages or switch pages it gets make shift and gets taken,
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| It gets layman’s then gets sacred,
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| It’s a complicated turn of a events with lights over it,
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| And based on any further intent, you might notice it,
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| Like, intent on being noticed for what you been on,
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| And what you stood on being the motto that you live on,
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| 'cause what you stood on came from the crate you would sit on,
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| And you would look on and see how you was 'sposed to get on,
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| And when you get on, you put on where the attention at,
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| And know that looking on is to listen back, and getting back
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| Everything you did it for, bright as what you living for,
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| Promise it would never turn dim at all
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| And all it took to come to life was a stage to live it,
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| Shit can happen overnight if you’re awake to get it,
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| Like aiming before you draw and what it takes to hit it,
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| Or Caine and O-Dog, the stick up tape from menace
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| Before you leave, make sure you leave with it
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| It’s like knowing where the cameras in the walls are,
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| And they were already talking for you before the talk starts,
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| And your direction comes into question like it was On Star,
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| It’s either turn it on for the tape or turn into wall art,
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| Or maybe you was there but you really wasn’t,
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| In the cut, but before it cut you can feel it coming,
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| Quicker than you ever could’ve thought without interrupting,
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| Bottle on the floor and now you wishing you didn’t touch it,
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| Empty the cash register out 'fore you get to running,
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| Now there’s a motive on top of that tape rolling
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| On top of that other motive that same tape ain’t notice,
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| It’s all context, but get all that acclaim and you’ll get to love it,
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| It starts as a flash, it grows into fluorescence,
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| It goes into an essence that poses when you press it, like the tape do,
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| It dares you to mimic it like «son what your aim do?»,
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| And however you fit in that light is how it takes you,
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| Like, word to a shooter’s touch, steady as ever like you shooting up,
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| Brighter than ever, you ain’t losing much,
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| And validation is everything that you knew it was,
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| You finger prints on a bottle but that ain’t proving much,
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| For the importance of needing importance,
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| Until its loud enough where somebody’s seeing you for it,
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| And calling for everything you did it for, as dull as what you living for,
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| Promised it would never turn dim at all
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| And all it took to come to life was a stage to live it,
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| Shit can happen overnight if you’re awake to get it,
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| Like aiming before you draw and what it takes to hit it,
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| Or Caine and O-Dog, the stick up tape from menace
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| Before you leave, make sure you leave with it
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| Leave with enough time for them to forget what they heard,
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| But still enough time for you to spread that word,
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| Word is that words don’t be enough
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| But certain words be worth speaking up,
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| Up over how we think they know us,
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| Still up under where they hold us,
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| Eye level with what they showed us but,
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| Still up, all up with «they», but «they» who?,
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| «they» me or «they» you?,
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| 'cause «they» see what «they» do
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| And «they» mean what «they» drew
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| But «they» keeping «they» cool, and,
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| They need you to be you, so go ‘head, be you,
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| But know that that tape’s on
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| And you might not be able to take shorty to the back like
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| «bitch that tape ain’t yours, hand that over so me and my man can break north»,
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| Still up, and still us, all for validation
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| Because they told us we wasn’t valid,
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| Told us we ain’t matter so, now we matter right?,
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| Matter to us, matter to you, matter to they,
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| It matters what we say and what we portray
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| But what matters is what we became,
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| All for «they», so for better and worse
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| Make sure they spread that around,
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| Cause all it took to come to life was a stage to live it,
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| Shit can happen overnight if you’re awake to get it,
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| Like aiming before you draw and what it takes to hit it,
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| Or Caine and O-Dog, the stick up tape from menace
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| Before you leave, make sure you leave with it |