| Drunk a two hundred dollar sprite
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| Now I’m drowsy as fuck
|
| Just ran my bands up so much
|
| Don’t feel like countin' em up
|
| Newspaper on the floor
|
| Use a spoon for a chisel
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| Stamp in the middle
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| Imma be mad if it’s damp in the middle
|
| Imagine never leaving the hood for a month straight
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| Or your granny reading the paper
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| And you on the front page
|
| Did a lot of stupid shit during my younger days
|
| See it’s hard to think straight when you got hunger pains
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| When yo back against the wall and it’s no one to blame
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| You know
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| Income low
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| Anything goes
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| I used to not even think passed today
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| Couldn’t remember before my last two plays
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| Running relays
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| Running me crazy
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| Running it hot
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| Running wild
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| All the while running in place
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| Robbers and drug tasks running in places
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| Taking dope for your faces
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| Freedom giving you cases
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| Or giving you shells
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| And keep it in casing no trace
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| I know snakes that gave no stakes
|
| (Uh I just wanna thank em)
|
| Wheres my lighter
|
| Yeah Imma writer
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| Don’t wanna battle
|
| Bring rifles to the service
|
| Stash dope in the diapers
|
| Still a pull up, I come from aiming at windshield whippers
|
| We coulda been lifers
|
| Maybe shoulda been
|
| Knowing that the street life wasn’t right for us
|
| That right, that’s why it’s more than a nice chorus
|
| My partners in the fed said Lito’s written kites for us
|
| College kids, foreign chicks, even white boys
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| Rocking with me cause my story nuttin like yours
|
| Had to fight for it
|
| What I’m on this mic for
|
| I’m just tryna get my money right, right? |
| x3 |