| Okay, hip-hop might be in a state of emergency
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| But you can’t really blame the artists
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| Don’t point the finger, y’knowmsayin?
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| Let’s do what we do, let them do what they do
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| They all sayin the same shit anyway
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| Let’s do what we wanna do
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| Trick Trick, Royce 5'9″
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| Done all types of dirt all across the world
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| And all kind of shows for you boys and girls (heyyy!)
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| High schools to shows of nothin but old folks
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| G.D.'s, blue rags, red rags and
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| Detroit to L.A., B-Ham to Jersey
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| Atlanta to B.K., A-Z to V-A
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| Now I done seen some strange shit
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| But all around the world homeboy it’s the same shit
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| I’ll tell you this; |
| ain’t got a gang of crews on these blocks (so what?)
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| Heard it’s a pretty bitch just itchin to get knocked (so what?)
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| Lines of broads at these shows (so what?)
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| With backstage passes and wantin to be chose (so what?)
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| Everybody wanna be better than the next
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| It’s the same everybody claimin they better than the rest (oooh)
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| Everybody got a Glock, everybody got a spot
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| Everybody sell dope — WHO DON’T?
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| Allllll arouuuuund the worrrrrld (it's the same old song homie)
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| Rouuuuund and rouuuuund we goooo (yeah)
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| Allllll arouuuuund the worrrrrld (it's just the same old song homie)
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| Rouuuuund and rouuuuund we goooo (yep)
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| Yessir
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| Uh; |
| can we get a moment to reflect
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| on the music that we distributin and tryin to eject?
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| Yep, your sounds ain’t goin down (so)
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| Blame it on downloads but it’s the same old sound
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| Everybody is a killer, man go and tell the truth!
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| Most of y’all ain’t killers 'til your ass in the booth
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| Take a look in the mirror and be honest with yo’self
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| You got a guap on records off another nigga’s wealth
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| Truth hurt, don’t it? |
| You think you ain’t special enough?
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| With some people to listen to you so you makin it tough
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| At a show you too hard to throw your Goddamn hands up
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| While I’m at it, man pull yo' Goddamn pants up!
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| In real life in the joint if you sad
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| You belong to a man and yo' ass is a fag (ooooh)
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| I ain’t mad at niggaz changin the game
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| cause the world is lookin at us like we all the same, so
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| My nigga I got you!
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| I got you, don’t worry about it
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| Yeah, yeah
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| Bitch please, get lost, I get big cheese
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| Me and Trick be gettin green like split peas
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| Pick a place, any place
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| I done been through it, pick a state, any state
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| And if you ain’t geographically inclined
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| you can get the globe and you can pick a shape, any shape
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| Heh, where you from? |
| I could care less
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| I’m fearless, I’ll show you so you will know it’s real
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| Cause once the K’s get to tearin whole blocks up
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| Like (blam blam blam) now you from Cloverfield
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| I just look like this, I do it just to get the kitty cat
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| I’m bringin niggaz that look pretty back
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| And while I’m at it I’m bringin Detroit city back
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| Holla when you land, I’ll take you to where the titties at
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| (Titties at) You lil' niggaz is lame
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| Put the tobacco back in the blunt, you spittin the same
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| We goin
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| Go on mayne, hip-hop ain’t dead homie…
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| I like that dawg
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| That’s some real shit…
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| Hehehe, you just thumpin the hell out that bass, ain’t ya? |