| There he goes, there he goes running his mouth again
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| At the finish line talking shit like I got the win
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| Whatchu know about the wind or the way I spin?
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| Lights on, cameras up, zoom out, focus in
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| Ritalin for my bars when I spaz out
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| Nervous twitchin' in my pocket, should I pull my cash out?
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| I mash out like M.O.P
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| No more, shows for free, I need a C.O.D
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| You know
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| Cash on delivery, gentleman chivalry
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| My magnum open symphony is orchestrated differently
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| A symbol crash for you simple ass
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| You see I’m never looking past you, I’m looking through you
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| A wrecking ball to your ego, shall I move you?
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| Rearrange your features by my hand, I rubik’s cube you
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| Who’s new to this music? |
| Not I
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| Got skill, got bars, got pay, got fly
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| Yall know, yall know how I do
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| It’s something bold, something brave
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| Something flossy, something new
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| Yall know, yall know how I live
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| Well that all depends on which girls you seeing me with
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| Yall know, yall know how I do
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| It’s something bold, something brave
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| Something flossy, something new
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| Yall know, yall know how I live
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| Well that all depends on which hoes you seeing me with
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| The second verse is for you bummy hoes
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| You knobby-knee'd, pigeon-toed, gold diggers with a runny nose
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| Cowboy boots and rips in your pantyhose
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| Never paid a bill, cause you spoiled by your daddy-o
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| So daddy owns stock in Apple, Mac
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| So you’ve never had to eaten stale applejacks
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| Them generic off brand so them value sacks
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| Sacks fifth add bags, you adore all that
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| But you ain’t never have a job, how you afford all that?
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| Hear the music that is playing? |
| I record all that
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| Bitch don’t be concerned, or ask me where my money goes
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| Follow all the buzz so you can find me like a honeycomb
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| King me or get jumped like checkers
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| The queen bees only want a taste of your nectar
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| At that apple bird mecca
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| I tell them hoes to get lost
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| Birds of a feather never swarm with you damn wasps |