| These children are living in a world where their friends, their brothers,
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| their sisters, their cousins, their classmates are dying violently
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| They are trying to live with good thoughts, with hope, and with vibrancy in a
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| world that offers them that
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| Our only, only choice is to stand in here with them and to say you’re right,
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| you can hope for a better life, you can do it differently
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| Miss Shakur did not go on a rampage about the people who shot her son
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| I’m feeling like a muthafuckin' boss bangin' 2Pac
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| High as a muthafuckin' Queensbridge rooftop
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| Blowing on this purple haze, feelin' invincible
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| Sellin' dope, never snitch, hood nigga principles
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| Abide by it, live by it, die by it, nigga
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| Even when I’m finga fuckin' hoes, finga on tha trigga
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| Diamonds in my crucifix, feelin' like a priest
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| Open the doors of my garage, see that '92 Caprice
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| Soldier for the cause, don’t leave home without the strap
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| Know the map like the back of my hand, therefore I trap
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| See them cars and them street bikes, shining under street lights
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| Blowing on this peace pipe, welcome to the street life
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| Can’t sleep through the night
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| Man, you better believe that I’m a street rider
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| Can’t sleep through the night
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| I keep it tucked in my sleeves cause I’m a street rider (Uh-huh)
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| I’m a hustla, ghetto entrepreneur (Uh-huh)
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| And addicted to money, cars and hoes (Uh-huh)
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| Got my toolie tucked and ready to draw (Uh-huh)
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| With a middle finger up, screamin', 'fuck that law!' |
| (Uh-huh)
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| The Phantom can’t hold me, so I went and bought a Spider
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| Nigga, I Swizz Beatz like a fucking Ruff Ryder
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| Can-am engine, suicide rims
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| Niggas can’t live wit' it: commit suicide then
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| Wish cancer on a hater, wish AIDs on a slut
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| Take the ride kill me 'cause ain’t a bitch that I trust
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| I’m just rollin' up this kush, 'bout to crash my girl truck
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| Her friend texted me tryna to kick it like the world cup
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| She just tryna get some ace of spades, tryna hit the blunt
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| She a cunt, hit her once and call her ass next month
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| See these bitches tryna stunt and these niggas stay hatin'
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| See my watch a cold bitch, call that hoe Sarah Palin
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| All my albums went platinum, nigga, thanks to the block
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| Voice raspy as ever, nigga, thanks to them shots
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| Back reppin' Aftermath, nigga, thanks to the Doc
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| And these hoes in my Panamera thanks to Ciroc
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| Can’t sleep through the night
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| To all of my gangstas, street rider
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| Can’t sleep through the night
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| Goin' out to mu hustlas, street rider (Uh-huh)
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| I’m a hustla, ghetto entrepreneur (Uh-huh)
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| And addicted to money, cars and hoes (Uh-huh)
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| Got my toolie tucked and ready to draw (Uh-huh)
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| With a middle finger up, screamin', 'fuck that law!' |
| (Uh-huh)
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| I switch from chillin'
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| Cause rappers harassin' me, illin'
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| They rich, infatuated by just casually livin'
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| The bitch could have a threesome with 'em, so now they pimpin'
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| Lil' monkey, that’s how a king is 'pose to be
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| How you open, when she willin'
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| Let me take you to '87
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| 14 years old, I was a ladies legend
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| 38, a bird in the safe, '98 Oldsmobile
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| I ain’t frontin', I don’t know Pharrell
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| He wear pastel colors
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| I wear the pain of the Soledad brothers
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| And them chrome gat busters
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| An R&B wife on the arm, I close shop
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| I showed niggas they first Bentley, fuck I window shop
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| Show niggas they first ice, now they like, 'I love you'
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| Remember when they hustle, was tryna sue Russell
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| For what other nigga did to him, sounds sickenin'
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| That’s why I cut him off, word to God, he was snitchin' then
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| Can’t sleep through the night
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| Goin' out to my gangstas, street rider (Out to my gangstas, yeah)
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| Can’t sleep through the night
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| Goin' out to my hustlas, street rider (Goin' out to my hustlas, uh-huh)
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| I’m a hustla, ghetto entrepreneur (Uh-huh)
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| And addicted to money, cars and hoes (Uh-huh)
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| Got my toolie tucked and ready to draw (Uh-huh)
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| With a middle finger up, screamin', 'fuck that law!' |
| (Uh-huh)
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| When I can’t sleep through the night
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| Keep my eyes wide open, street rider (My eyes wide open, yeah)
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| Can’t sleep through the night
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| When have you known me for jokin'? |
| (When have you known me for jokin'?)
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| Street rider (uh-huh)
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| I’m a hustla, ghetto entrepreneur (Uh-huh)
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| And addicted to money, cars and hoes (Uh-huh)
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| Got my toolie tucked and ready to draw (Uh-huh)
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| With a middle finger up, screamin', 'fuck that law!' |
| (Uh-huh) |