| Verse 1: Golden Boy
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| Graveyard shift, as the crickets make chitter
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| At the driving range, with a full damn twixer
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| And a chick named Lindsay Lohan
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| With me on this slow jam
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| Paint it like a picture
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| Grass stained pants getting dropped
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| Like a no-talent bitch from her label
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| Hold hands in the cold sprinkler under space
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| Gold, taste lotus famous naked ho fades away
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| Slow replaced with digital cassette tapes
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| Rollin, little more rigid to embrace though original
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| Listen for existence of the soul in the rhythmical
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| Feel it and say so
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| Wait ninety-eight mighty laid in the cove
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| The crack crib is swimming with underage kids
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| Laid back running my Jib, when the raid came rapping with rick
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| Aka abtin
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| We stayed lampin till a cat aimed a laser at the captain
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| He came out his face
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| We dashed in the whip and escape
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| On the lost highway like skate, skate
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| Change place
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| Sittin up solo at Little Cates and scrape whistle
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| From the old gates when the wind blow
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| Shake, tremble, tremolo, dissembled
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| My mental only present in the vessel of a ghostly or spectral
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| Attendee, then the scene met me
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| Recognize me, Mike, Echo on the wet beach
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| With a trifecta of beefs, in sweats, tees
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| Heat weather, must been set in a better season
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| For summer steez
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| Wanna hug him but my steps touch nothing
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| And the breath not coming from my speech
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| Guess I must just watch, dumb clockin Echo
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| In the flesh, when it clicked and I said yo
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| «You shouldn’t be here» then, giddy with fear
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| Tempted to giggle and give him three cheers didn’t reach ears
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| But he turned to stare back as if aware that
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| Undercover spy hoverin he laughed from the other side
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| Son I was affixed in his sight
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| Shuddering, his eyes was the color of night
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| He beckoned, but where he go I couldn’t follow
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| To a better tomorrow
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| To a better tomorrow
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| Hook: Golden Boy
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| Yo I feel like I might fall
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| Like I might not be able to awaken
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| And like the night call
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| They keep saying my name
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| G, it ain’t a dream, it’s your life waning
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| Verse 2: Golden Boy
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| First there was nothing, just puffing in the wings
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| Once pacing, waiting for the stagefront rushing
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| Racing and picking my brains to think of page lengths
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| Or lyrics and and hearing my name ringin the beer
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| Is on the House Exchange pounds with Twyson and Goser both help me
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| To show em' how LP roll now
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| If it’s no crowd, throat not healthy, or low sound fidelity
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| The hell with celebrity
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| I hope it goes well
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| Now the season switch up like the color of leaves from trees
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| Suddenly I’m seated in bitch thundering speed
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| Sub tweeters buzzing the deep kicks
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| The team 6 stuffed in a whip
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| Destination is the question I guess
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| Never the less we puff and recognize
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| Second cousins of the clique, live insider’s
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| Brother sir valiant and marc, well
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| It’s heart spellin out my heart but you can start it with the LR
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| I wonder why I never tell her how I felt and
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| As the car fell apart, my cells disembark
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| It’s just marks fading
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| Names carved in the bark
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| With a sharp blade shine dulling
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| Every line aging in the park pine numbing
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| A mind state of mine dark
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| Time running like blood through my veins
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| And the stars wink one by one
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| They extinguish as the sun rise
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| Till the day comes when its done why?
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| Am I struggling so hard to roll large stones high
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| Up a steep road to touch skies
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| Far above from my gloves, arms are tired
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| My eyes shut, seeing much sharper in my sleep and lie clutchin blanket
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| Armor hangin in the chill breeze and transform within a ill dream into a shank
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| tip
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| Just language, slang to the anguish
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| It’s just something for you to bang when you languish
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| At last I saw a comet, flash from beyond this
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| Overcast mass and I’ll be on it
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| And that’s the ticket, ride upon the brilliance of your wish
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| And split skies get it to the limit (yeah)
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| That’s the ticket, ride upon the brilliance of a
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| Wish, and split sky get it to the limit (to the limit)
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| Hook: Golden Boy
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| Yo I feel like I might fall
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| Like I might not be able to awaken
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| And like the night call
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| They keep saying my name
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| G, it ain’t a dream, it’s your life waning |