| Eugh, 'Ringe
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| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
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| Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah
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| Go on, dust the dirt out my asshole (Out my 'hole)
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| Everybody full of shit, letting you know (Let 'em know)
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| Run around my head, like, where to go? |
| (Where to go?)
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| Drive myself insane, all the way into the floor, (whoa)
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| Bitch, I’m different, sike, tryna strike my social life (Whoa)
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| I don’t fucking like (Whoa) anything y’all fucking like (Not at all)
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| I’m an Anti-Christ, can’t afford the afterlife (Whoa)
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| Only pass me Reggie, I ain’t with that loud
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| Tryna' be cool like a fan, huh?
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| Why I’m fooling, I’m losing my patience
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| And making my obstinance and you cannot give me none
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| I come from a grimy place, where you from?
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| Niggas think this a race, they ain’t going nowhere
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| 'Cause they running through the quicksand
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| The more that you struggle, the faster you sink, so
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| Struggle more if you can
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| Ain’t worried 'bout shit, especially not this
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| Startin' fires when you worried 'bout a damn outfit
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| Nigga, I started a business of giving you all the business
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| Hungover and the headaches callin'
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| But I’m still workin', nigga, ain’t stoppin'
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| Fuck it up, believe it and trust that we comin' up
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| Steppin' on your luck |