| You got ya mind rocked, rollin' down Loners Blvd
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| You’ve got dreams, keep on dreaming
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| High school team, never got accepted
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| Guess it didn’t get to go how I expected
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| Now a nigga pissed
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| Steady lookin' at the bottom of the list like
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| «Where the fuck are my projections?»
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| Niggas like, «Next year Tory
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| It’s all good, you’ll be next year’s story»
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| Then I said «Man, you don’t even understand
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| Man, I’m droppin' out now, win it next year for me»
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| So I left, bus route to the bench down 53
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| Took the last dollar that I had for this dream
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| And I spent it on some 99 cents Micky D’s
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| Shit wasn’t doin' too fine
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| Then I made a call to this nigga named Rimes
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| Said he had a little studio and it wasn’t top-notch
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| But could damn near do the whole nine
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| So I said «Cool,» made a few songs in this shit
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| Stayed too long in this shit
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| But by the month, man, I was there so much niggas had to lay futons in this shit
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| Owe it to my aunt Suzanne
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| Drove to my first shows in your new Jetta
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| Always said one day I would be the man
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| I would just laugh like, «Who are you tellin', me?»
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| I’ma go far
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| I could still dream in this world full of stars
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| I could still scheme in this world full of narcs
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| If they could still scheme in them unmarked cars, so
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| I’ma dream, I’ma dream, dream
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| I’ma dream, dream like you said to me
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| Best words that was said to me
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| Best words that was said to me
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| Ten long miles, from a long way home
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| I’m headed downtown 'cause I’m workin' on this lil' mixtape
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| No fillers, no throwaway songs
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| Hopin' that this shit just go
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| Sadly for me, this shit didn’t
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| So I make another mixtape and another mixtape and another mixtape
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| 'Til them niggas start sayin' shit’s hittin'
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| Then I meet a guy named Sascha
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| Tells me he’s thinkin' 'bout takin' up management
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| Say he got a million dollar empire on his mind, he just need the artist to plan
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| it with
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| He also say he throw shows out in Texas and maybe I should open up for one
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| And I say «Cool man,» he books me the next flight out like I’m showin' up for
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| somethin'
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| I land down in Houston around nine, warehouse live
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| Was my worst show ever
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| Niggas damn near got booed off stage
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| I performed like my first show ever
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| Women in the crowd wouldn’t scream for a nigga
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| Niggas in the crowd they was kotched up down
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| Bad enough niggas let Bun B watch
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| But I felt like I let Sascha down, this shit was live on stage, dog
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| That night felt like a nigga had the whole world on my shoulders
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| Twenty years old tryna find a warm spot in this world gettin' colder
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| Then he came to me like, «Dog, I could put money on this, bet a hundred on this»
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| Gives me a few tips for the next night setlist
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| Says, «Dog, you gon' run it on this» and it all works out
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| It’s a big world
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| The bigger your dream, the bigger you’re livin' it
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| It’s all in your mind
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| Don’t let nobody fuck up your high
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| It’s a big world
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| The bigger your dream, the bigger you’re livin' it
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| It’s all in your mind
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| Don’t let nobody fuck up your high
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| Father, I lift up my son, I lift up anyone that travels with him and by his
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| speed I pray that you go ahead of him… I assign angels right now to this
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| assignment and I declare Father that they will go before you to make straight
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| his path, I command that every crooked path would be made straight,
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| every rough place would be made smooth, every obstacle, every barricade,
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| every blockade, every conspiracy, every trap, right now is destroyed and
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| removed out of his way in the name of Jesus. |
| And I thank you that it is written
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| that goodness and love and mercy, form all the things of our life… |