| Everything happens for a reason
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| And my reason to be’s to see shit happen for a reason — One event to the next
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| It’s like I’m stuck at the box office with every second my clock tosses
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| Into my face, smacked with a case of fate wasted and lost causes
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| I’ve been mocked and accosted, to the point that I got nauseous
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| Though my flow’s been plugged enough to stop faucets
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| I’ve thought often about tossing this awesome gift to the wind
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| And start crossing over to sin with this intention to blend that I get from
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| within
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| I’ve protected my skin with a thin layer of pride and showmanship
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| But both my coats are ripped and I can’t seem to decide on clothes that fit
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| Supposing this rap shit actually pays off, I’m wondering if it’ll all be worth
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| it
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| Cause this is what everyone in my life has ever been hurt with
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| This curse, this evil urge I feel for verses
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| Is one of my life’s real perversions
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| I seal my curtains when I write, I feel disturbance from the light
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| I deal with dirt and yet I want to heal the earth and peel the surface to
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| reveal it’s perfect
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| And words I wield with purpose, and yet nobody follows the plot
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| They rather hear me rock off of the top
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| There’s pitfalls in my socks, so I walk with caution
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| Somebody halt the auction! |
| Cause my soul’s on sale, and I thought I lost it
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| If I gotta fight for the rest of my life
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| Then I’m gon' turn the other cheek (yeah)
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| Cause I hate the way you hurt me
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| But I can’t get enough of your love
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| And who the hell am I supposed to be?
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| A holy priest holding a rosary? |
| Some type of bold stoic Moses of poetry?
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| Should I be holding heat to pose for the streets
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| A total phoney? |
| If I said my name was 'Tony' would you know it’s me?
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| Supposedly, T-O-N-E flow with ease over these bolder beats
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| But the flow’s too cheap to pay for groceries
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| And in the throws of grief I choke and breathe
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| Loaded with my parents hopes and dreams, yet I don’t know if we both believe
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| I scope the scene, and I’m watching these bills build up
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| I’m nice with a day-job, these niggas write all day and still suck
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| And yet they fill clubs, sell a trillion and feel sluts
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| I kill dubs, but I don’t have the mills to pay for real pub
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| My chilled love melts on occasion
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| Cause brainwashed niggas only feelin' my track if Clue or Flex will play it
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| Who you expect to say this shit if I don’t?
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| What? |
| Cause I don’t wanna be extorted by some cat who lets cash determine his
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| playlists
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| I’m searching for ways in, but entrances are sparse when you’re hard to market
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| Fuck art, cause thugs aren’t the smartest targets
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| And I’m not abstract enough, so it seems backpackers are acting up
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| And I thought it was half the battle, just to have the love
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| And pack a truckload of skills, politics are ill and yo, it’s real
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| It seems I’m cruising, and they’re still using these crooked stones for wheels
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| And when you know the deal, it doesn’t evoke the most appeal
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| Like stolen Kosher Meals, lemme propose a toast to heal
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| I’ve sacrificed so many facets of life, just to achieve this
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| From Love & definitive reason, to trust in agreements
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| My family suffered a grievance when we discussed I was leaving
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| Seeming substituted for tunnel vision and it probably crushed all their feelings
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| There’s something appeasing in the corruption of demons
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| Feeding me vehemently lustful delusions of bucks from succeeding
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| But times up, months it’s exceeded
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| Peeling the scabs off of cuts that are bleeding
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| Knowing I ain’t had it as tough as Jesus
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| This shit doesn’t compete or even touches what he did
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| But, will I be signed by 33? |
| Cause my teens were fucking depleted
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| Blessed with a gift, equipped to assist in the destruction of heathens
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| But, please, would god really want me snuffing emcees, then? |
| (Ha)
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| I must be conceited, right?
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| Well, I’m balanced out by the lack of self-esteem
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| I’ve felt since I’ve learned how to read & write
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| Overcompensation spelled relief when the rhyme schemes are tight
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| Then I feel the weight of a cheapened life when 5,000 people die
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| (SOB! SOB!) Feel bad for the rap artist?
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| But pour your soul into something for responses that’s half-hearted
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| Terminate relationships on the basis of past hardships
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| And then you’ll see why every review’s like another line on my scarred wrist
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| This light-hearted voice becomes jailed by the darkness
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| It’s impossible to trap my lips, when I have to spit
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| I try to swim away, but I keep getting dragged back in this
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| Come to find my arms automatically swimming backwards, Cause I’m a Masochist
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| If I gotta fight for the rest of my life
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| Then I’m gon' turn the other cheek (yeah)
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| Cause I hate the way you hurt me
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| But I can’t get enough of your love |