| Leave a lame duck flying in his fake fame
|
| Relying on and replying to his fake names
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| Pandering and meandering neanderthals
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| Going home crying more than Niagara Falls
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| Aim is off came soft, hey the bass off
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| We hating? |
| Nah way raw take a face off
|
| They hmmm and haaa at my hymns and my shake off
|
| They shame and awe, take it all raped and made off
|
| They take Jazz, take Soul, take Hip-Hop
|
| And blame the nigga every inch and every drip drop
|
| They money making Harlem Shaking to the pish posh
|
| They tryna fuck it till they come hope they get off
|
| Researching rhymes dictionary, a thesaurus
|
| If it was in your heart you wouldn’t have to work hard
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| Your shit is trash garbage, my works' God
|
| Fucking apple strudel doodle, I’m a work of art
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| Scat
|
| Him? |
| A story loosely based on us
|
| But without no pain and dust the main essence
|
| Essentially a ruse or a misfocus
|
| An absence of style where it should be must
|
| To grind all the diamonds that we mined to dust
|
| And sell it back to us with the cold mark up
|
| His perverted desires man his greed, his lust
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| To do it how we do it, but without no us
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| With one nigga ballin like hes enough
|
| I let my cobra clap
|
| I don’t really wanna hear no sober rap
|
| You know I spit the truth
|
| Bouncing round lookin like Hitler Youth
|
| Savoir Faire, that’s a french word
|
| I got it sliding with the pimps riding deuce third
|
| I must avoid all simps, hipsters with contempt
|
| For the swerve to make the pudding put the proof first |