| Elevated, but you know that I be flexing
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| Light shining off my aura every time I step in
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| Elevated posse, hope that niggas get the message
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| Nothing ever prosper against the living gods, please hold your weapons
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| Fifty rolled when I show up, stacking bread, getting cold cuts
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| Indigo yeah you know us from New York to Minnesota
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| We got it locked, wait til this to drop, take it to the top
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| Your shit flop, they say UA hot, stop us? |
| You cannot
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| Came from the bottom, tornado done got us
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| Now we sproutin' up tell em' kneel to the prophets
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| Money ain’t a thing, if I see it I’mma cop it
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| But that ain’t 'bout this so I keep it out my topics
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| Say you want the world? |
| Nigga go get it
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| But first you got to deal with the man in the mirror
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| Raise up your guns and pull the fucking trigger
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| That’s your ego, dead, goodbye your inner sinner
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| I’m rolling up and I’m floating up and I’m about to smoke again
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| Blowing OG, that potent green, spark another one up cause we win
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| Rest in Peace to my nigga Steez, don’t worry 'bout it, get lit
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| Roll another up for my nigga dawg, dedicate this one to the prince
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| Riding through my city, plotting on a fuckin' milli
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| It’s like 10k for a feature, here’s my e-mail you can hit me
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| UA fuck the game up got these rappers looking silly
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| Ain’t no way for you to stop me, motherfuckers gotta kill me
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| Elevated but you know that I be flexing
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| New shit for the lords, nuisance, nuclear bars
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| Flow perfected, no flaws, a nigga merk her up, protected
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| Headed for the top and it ain’t that far
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| When you got a heart of gold to disclose the facades
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| Playing shows 'til I float like a ghost on the stars
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| Put a hole in the ozone, when the sativa L’s blown (Lord)
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| Lord, forgive me for my sins, found the light looking with in
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| My past life use to be dim but now I rose amongst these plans
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| No I won’t oppose you to make some bands
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| Naw get a million bro, live while you can
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| There’s a whole world out there, waiting for you hands
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| But you live without identity, the enemy is chance
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| Uh, what you waitin' on, get creatin' dog
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| What’s the worst that happens, bet you make it, dog
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| Popped a tab and now I’m elevatin' yall
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| Dropping tracks, puttin' rappers in the morgue
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| Back to back I’m spitting facts 'til they evolve
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| Take charge like a spiritual force
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| I thank god that my limits are crossed
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| And face odds with the ending result feeling (Oh lord)
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| Young messiah ascending higher, walk through the fire
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| Uh, no one told me that I’d be golden, holdin' desires
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| Puffin' potent, that loud explosive, while floatin' through the white
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| Sippin' potion, the gods in motion when Sour Diesel’s acquired
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| Knowledge supplyin' the idle mind, Perish if you outta line
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| Lyrics like text, lil' homie, cause I spit foul all the time
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| Hitting on some top shit pine
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| I’m a top chef cooking with the rhymes
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| Feeling god-sent, not even in prime pop pens
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| When I write a rhyme, now I’m poppin' cause I start the line |