| I set it off in the sunny distance, no days existed
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| My patience led the way until the greatest love listened to me
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| I used to play the witness, wait in the trenches
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| It’s like the 6th man, sits on different benches
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| It’s hard squeezing life in a sentence
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| And if I do, roll carpet with the red tint
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| My entrance is what’s between
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| When I exit, it’s Evidence left on the scene
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| Alchemist cut the record down to the bone
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| And with a record like this I take the world by storm
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| Sky blessed, the land of the brave
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| Understand where I stand, my hand is made
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| From BR Double-O KLYN, the planet
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| Family landed, managed to raise the man that I became
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| Panic on my first campaign
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| But when the words fell to place, I was certain to reign
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| I hit the purple, then step in the circle and start flexin'
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| Weatherman invented, now storms change directions
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| Portions of my proceeds is feeding my homies now
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| I always shared pretty good for an only child
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| I was the baby boy, I could do no wrong
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| Now the role’s reversed, I’m putting people on
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| They on welfare, you got healthcare
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| They used to have their priorities elsewhere
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| I took rims and tires and traded them
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| For a ticket to an island, that’s where
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| I wrote this rhyming
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| Where I first saw my vision
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| Driven by a better living, a place to raise kids in
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| So I think like I rule the world
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| On the brink of something bigger, building schools
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| For boys and girls
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| The thought of home gets me out of my bed
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| I said you got the tools?
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| Get them shits up out of the shed. |
| C’mon!
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| I’m like the indispit of rhyming
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| The Jack Dempsey emcee
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| All my shit customed out
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| eventually
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| Money is made, fly blades
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| A woman with brains, will help a black nigga reign
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| My lifestyle’s a prowler
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| A rich loaner, owner
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| Used to pump at coffees shops
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| Had my bitch who sell with me rolling up
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| Fly ass and still classy
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| Asking questions like «Why you wait on that glass?
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| Why would you splash me? |
| «Yo, it’s only nigga shit
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| I’m a teach you like how I was taught too
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| Hold the phone, Ward 2
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| Seeing all kinds of grey fossils
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| Colossal juice, pick the house, act fly
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| I got you. |
| No need to walk backwards
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| Fuck with the taxes
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| I speak credibility, the story to masses
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| Yo, a diplomatic winner, Nik boots
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| A scully good denim jean on and one rental
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| They say you only live once, I disagree
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| You only live twice: your life enable your seed
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| So I lead on whacks and feed em the deeds
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| So when I die they got a foundation on my publishing B
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| Plus the words that I speak, here’s my family jewels
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| It ain’t all blood diamonds, but like experienced fools
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| And I be rhyming cool, but my philosophy’s deep
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| Like a Dear John letter, so read em and weep
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| And the wolf smells blood: you can feed em to me
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| But I’m a Lycan underworld, you can meet in the street
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| Draw heat, but what happened to peace?
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| He got a Dirty Sanchez, like what happened to Screech
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| Jesus, diarrhea’s — I mean holy shit
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| Christ on a cracker, that’s just how we spit
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| Communion: had the wine, make the sign of the cross
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| And I will live in the past, chalk it up as a loss
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| Went from «please listen to my demo! |
| «To stretch limo
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| To the penn in a cell watching Eminem on Jimmy Kimmel
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| But I can’t go out like Timbo slice
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| Like Geena Korrano, a cyborg determinate
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| Mano a mano, still Ronald McDonald
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| Over one billion served
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| But it’s up to me to get what I deserve
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| So I handle my biz and hustle harder than the norm
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| The early bird gets the worm, but the hawk gets the bird… |