| Bad Health bro
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| This that shit my nigga
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| Tangled in this Hell hole, prolly slept with the dope packs
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| Nomads roaming, tasting the cognac
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| Jakes they all adore you, so you might as well just off yourself
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| Awful health, Newports got me coughing up yellow shit
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| Pockets getting thinner, thoughts getting more devilish
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| Derelict, living a low life degenerate
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| Man’s shot, mom’s fucked up, bitches is sucking dick
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| Fucks a rap check, so I’m still right here on this fucking strip
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| Do a show for four thousand people then go and sell a zip
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| Go on tour then post in front the store like I ain’t got a cent
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| Dropping packs in the hood like the UPS nigga
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| When I fuck these next plates up I’ma have to get the next nigga
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| Or wait until the, said that niggas got a show (chill nigga)
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| And they gon' toss a lil' dough so now I’m back up on the road
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| But it still ain’t shit cause my moms who got the house
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| So the of these thoughts is threw the 5 for the ounce
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| Yo yo
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| You know the block is hot son, you need to chill out
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| You got a future ahead of you
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| I know you sick of the fiends fiending to get ahead to you
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| And risking your life
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| Mr. You-Know-Where-To-Find-Me-For-The-7-For-The-90, I
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| Know your circumstances coming up was fucked up
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| But your only 21 and you ain’t diss anyone, deadass
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| Your past is what makes your present special
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| Fuck a rap cheque? |
| that cheque paid for the pack for the session
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| Listen lil homie, I know I’m only 27
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| But I kept my head down like God in Heaven and I got my blessings
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| A lot of my niggas doing bids tryna live like this
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| Beating off while we really in bitches ribs
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| No A-1 sauce on my filet mignon
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| Could make 40 off a brick, I did that in 2 shows
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| Yo
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| 'til Kendrick tossed me hundred
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| Now I don’t fuck with making five, don’t agree with any guys
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| Hear what you saying but you really gotta feel me my nigga
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| Cause just the other day they tried to kill Trizzy my nigga
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| But they hit 'em in the leg, I was working in the basement
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| Then the news hit my phone, I’m thinking 'bout retaliation
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| Grab a big sized .40 or adjust it for the Uzi
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| Then cut the scene on them niggas, hit the block and make a movie
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| I pull up like I’m working on my bicepts
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| And break a pound in my man’s crib inside the projects
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| Take a piss in the stairs like I ain’t just leave the brib
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| I remember it was nights and my stomach touched my ribs
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| Record fucked up, lips black, was smoking all these roaches
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| tatted on my face, since the jump this shit was hopeless
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| On my birthday, no party, no cake or nothing
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| We was broke, what you think I sold dick for nothing (sorry)
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| Man’s passed when I was 15 on the day that I was born
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| By some nigga from the hood that might have made a couple songs
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| Hey hey, hang on
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| What kind of attitude is that?
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| Surely not the one to reach the altitude I’m at
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| I ain’t saying put in an application or nothing crazy
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| Ain’t no fear in your heart?
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| No need to be afraid of a little patience
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| Like the pediatrics
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| They say sometime the rap game remind them of the crack game
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| Find a balance
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| Cause what they did with 16 zips, I did with 16 Raws in 2010
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| I know the pen ain’t right, that’s why I ain’t use it to write
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| You don’t even got an I.D., what laws are you abiding? |
| (man)
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| Retch I ain’t tryna change you, just give you some game
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| To make the transition, from the streets to the fame
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| Yo, that shit corny, word is Bond, Soulo listen
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| Shoulda copped a fucking brick when you dropped Control System
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| We coulda took it to the hood and bagged it 'til our hands callus
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| Ha, remember all that shit that you was talking about the balance?
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| Lil scale, lil sale, prolly do a show at Yale
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| Get back and the
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| Get Mac to pay the bails
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| Well, you do have a point there
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| It ain’t like I ain’t tryna ball like I play point here
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| But what if they point fingers? |
| nigga, I’m a public figure already
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| Everybody seen my picture already
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| If you play behind the workers like you play behind the shades
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| Do your thing up on the stage and slip out every couple days
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| We could chef up all the yola, put some bitches on the blade
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| Had the junkies sharing needles, prolly give each other aids
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| (Damn, guess we can get in all ways)
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| Fuck it, they give each other aids (Niggas is grown these days)
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| Yeah now you get it, catching on to it (Mhm, okay)
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| Had these niggas on, wet up that raw fluid
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| (But if I heard her speak) Nah, we got niggas in the streets
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| And they don’t eat nothing but bars
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| You come through and they’ll shoot from the car
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| And zoom choppers same size as guitars
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| And let 'em know that this trip here is ours
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| (I mean you ready for War) Hell yeah I’m ready for War
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| (Yo, fuck all this HiiiPower talk, how much that whole thing cost?) |