| Once upon a time, not long ago
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| We made some dope records at The motherfucking Halo
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| I’m old school so I get to the point quicker
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| You past your prime like an overweight stripper
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| My time to fuck around, right around zero
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| You ask me twenty times, Warren Buffett’s still my hero
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| I’m out here chasing dinero like Bobby De Niro
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| I’ma buy a neighborhood and be somebody hero
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| Always hang with weirdos, my homies is my kinfolk
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| We dick your girlie real slow, old school medicine shelf
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| Make 'em see a rainbows like shooting free throws
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| Chasing checks is all we know, there they go at the do'
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| I’m always blessed, not stressed, it could be armed incest
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| I don’t just try fly-ness, I’m like a litmus test
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| You must be confused, you think you wanna diss this
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| That’s like an atheist that’s celebrating Christmas
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| Liar is your element like Lithium and Argon
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| I’m here to prove it, you losing gives me a hard on
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| Got bars long, from married moms selling Arbonne
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| The Stella Artois coaster poster with the hard gloss
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| I’m from Maine where I don’t gotta keep my car locked
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| M’s on my mind like I’m playing for Jim Harbaugh
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| I’m not restricted to conventional thought
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| I risk it all, got balls like intentional walks
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| You make me wanna tee-hee like Rob Gronk
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| 'cause life’s a bitch like it was your dog’s mom
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| You think your circle’s dope but P. Dank know it isn’t, though
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| You’re all a bunch of squares like some sticky notes
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| I’m a nice guy, but my jaw is mean
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| Your rhymes weaker than the hand on the claw machine
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| So fuck your concert, bro, I’m mad I came to it
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| I had a better time getting robbed in St. Louis
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| They tried to doubt me from the first verse that I laid the tape
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| But I practiced up, went and made mistakes
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| Never slept much, while the rest was, keep my reps up
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| Gotta get a step up so I stayed awake
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| Nodoz in my bars, no Xanny
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| Flows more like nose candy, no Mars
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| Still my whole family’s large
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| And we gracin' stages
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| Amazin' pace that we lace the page with
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| Some folks’ll fake it 'til they come face to face with the greatness
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| You lazy faded suckers who fuck up a beat, I duff and repeat
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| Meet four knuckles that will touch you and fuck up your week
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| Told dudes I showed to prove
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| Reps dope, cold aloof
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| I wreck flows from the shows and booth
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| You can check Snopes so you know the truch
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| We move swiftly, the crew’s with me, the mood uplift me
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| Shoot the harpoon from the calypso to skew the fishy
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| Your view is iffy, your image is weak
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| Over before you started, you artists too timid to speak
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| The meek shall inherit the shit that I choose to leave without
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| Please believe me, it’s Mike Beasley, the beast
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| Peace, I’m out
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| I backslap rappers physically and vocally, I’m the one y’all hope to be
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| A motherfucking giant, it’s impossible not to notice me
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| I’ll Sean Carter roundhouse, that’s the shit that I’m about
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| I don’t need no topic, I just say some shit and sound it out
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| A motivated man, with a master plan
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| Dropping verses over bangers thanks to God.Damn.Chan
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| I turn Gold River stone killer, jealous fucking spade bitter
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| While I’m steady laughin', I’m 'bout to make this happen
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| Y’all some sing-along silly fucks, talk slick but really suck
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| Tell your moms to call me, I got ways for her to make a buck
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| I don’t need no luck, I got the gift, fuck a «what if»
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| I’m what is that dopeness, y’all motherfuckers hopeless
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| I spaz out and start slapping up people
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| I’m a beast with an attitude, I’m oh so evil
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| This is part one of one, ain’t gon' be no sequel
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| And as far as rapping go, I’ve never met my equal, one |