Since I'm tapping for that drip, you're going to drink
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Don't question MISTER MISTER now, lest you miss it
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Handcuffs, you handcuff yourself
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Cliffs, himself down the cliffs
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If the trap is a chessboard, I am in the role of king
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You are a pawn, although you don't realize it now, because you are a pig
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I understand that I am in the ring with myself until the end
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There's only a minute left; |
mutts bite here too, so I became a pit bull
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In my dreams, I'm grooving the bass to the max; |
in the car it blows 'rava ta'; |
flow of life as
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Busta Rhymes I'm not a hippie like a Rastaman, I'm not a commercial, I'm not a Rasta fan
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I'll shoot right away, no discussion, you'll be as blue as the Avatar
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I'm not a rapper, do you understand that? |
That it's just a cover for me?
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We looked at wounds with wounds, so don't you understand now that we are going to steal your market in style?
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We are growing day by day — interest; |
the pipes are as long as a station wagon
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Little one, tell me how many tickets would you like? |
How much are you fighting for now?
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If I fall on my face it will be a padlock
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And do you know how much liquidation costs? |
Sometimes just frustration
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I have an illustration on the beat; |
you're calling me names, what are you getting at?
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Miss, you'll have to aim better
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If I die young I'll be smiling because I need peace in my soul, this 'zika is peace for my ears |
I'm dreaming — don't wake me up
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I create — don't be surprised
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Real, but I'm not like people
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Now don't judge me, and when the day of judgment comes I know what I will carry on my soul
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Since I'm tapping for that drip, you're going to drink
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Don't question MISTER MISTER now, lest you miss it
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Handcuffs, you handcuff yourself
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Cliffs, himself down the cliffs
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Mala does cowgirl like August Ames
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In this trap I'm Jesse James
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If I were black, I'd be spitting flames
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Everyone is looking for me, but I don't have a Face
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You're playing a game, but you don't have game
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I took a set, and you don't have a game
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She gives everything, and you have no gamma
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You're even chasing cash because you don't have gain
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I'm watching you guys fucking, what do you do when you don't have asses?
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In the songs of stories from the street, in the video there are bitches from the street
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I don't want coke, bro, I have nothing to fix
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I keep my nose, I don't push it where the jobs are
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And they shout "Trox, brother, when are you going to be famous?"
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I'm just silent, slag, you can't even imagine
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I'm dragging my brother with me, that's what the codes tell me
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Because you easily forget everything when you feel the cash
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And I didn't sell myself for autotune and I will never push myself with clout
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Camaro burst onto the scene, I'm driving a song like I'm driving a Camaro |
Tunnel Vision, like Kodak I'm black, always light flow bro, who can I blow
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Easy brother, I always add brother, always a good friend
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Mostly always halfway when you call, and I say I'm here
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There's a rapper in me, but it's better not to — I don't close my mouth and sew too much
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And I shoot too much on the beat and I write the lines because I'm crazy in the verse like Brutal and dark
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who Brutus
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But I showed my balls and wrote my name on the subtitle, learn to read and check the rhyme
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Since I'm tapping for that drip, you're going to drink
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Don't question MISTER MISTER now, lest you miss it
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Handcuffs, you handcuff yourself
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Cliffs, himself down the cliffs |