| Looking for someone down the line
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| But no one will be there to see ya through
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| Fuck all y’all
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| Shelter from the rain in a parked car
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| Chopping game, I defined my slangs
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| Fog lights in the grill, in the grill whippin the 96 rain
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| It’s insane I pass you, let you drive in the narrow lanes
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| My independence remain
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| Cause I ain’t working for the radio station like Martin Payne
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| I grind and maintain my piece of mind
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| Almost lost it once on the line
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| But see that I found it just in time
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| A mercenary killer
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| Paid for bringin debt to these whack niggas
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| You call them rats that’s why them labels never called you back
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| Pimpin, yeah jack, spitta snap,
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| Long flight, turbulence bad, baggage claim tags, car service rolling grass
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| Double 07, but I ain’t talking agents
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| Two ounces and seven grams my nigga we still blazing
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| You uneasy in my presence
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| Dumb questions, dumber statements
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| I’m on a whole nother level
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| Roof terrace, you the basement
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| Couldn’t gain possession
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| Them haters couldn’t take it
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| Can’t see me unless you sleeping
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| Nigga Freddy vs Jason
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| Snoozing on a jet movement
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| Your worst nightmare in the making |