| Huh
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| KC
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| U B I
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| Ces Ces
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| Sound Sweet, Sour Me
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| You couldn’t get another, you couldn’t
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| You couldn’t get another, you couldn’t
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| Ladies and gents, busy boys and girls
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| It’s the root of all evil, and it poisons worlds
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| When I get too much of it, I hear it’ll sour me
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| Like Uncle Scrouge, with the money pit to devour me, huh
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| I’m getting by, shit ain’t fly and flowery
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| But what I need now is a bump in my salary
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| I give a hell about, sellin out
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| Tell em bout, my slice, and ticket price, for shows, I’m sellin out
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| Huh spell it out speak about it in three’s
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| See the pie gotta get me a piece piece piece
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| Momma say Mikey you so cheap cheap cheap
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| What I say momma please don’t weep, I gotta eat
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| Everything that you say sounds sweet, sour me
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| But that sugar rots your teeth, now you can’t speak
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| You couldn’t get another dollar outta me, uh uh
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| You couldn’t get another dollar outta me, uh uh
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| Everything that you say sounds sweet, sour me
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| But that sugar rots your teeth, now you can’t speak
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| You couldn’t get another dollar outta me, uh uh
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| You couldn’t get another dollar outta me, uh uh
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| They want me to take em to deep--
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| Space and teach em how to breathe
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| Put em into a deep sleep, teach em how to dream
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| Dig a body up out a grave, and teach it how to live
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| Throw a kitten into a river, and teach it how to swim
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| It’s like, Mario teaching Luigi how to win
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| Some, people will tell you to teach a Frisbee how to spin, huh
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| People will talk, like he be about a bill
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| Shit, I’ll probably be that way, til I see about a mill
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| All they know is hustle and shine, teach em how to skill
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| So they lost, I’mma find them, lead them out the field
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| Cause that tall grass will blind them, I remind them
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| Of why, they on they grind, and their reason for rhyme
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| Everything that you say sounds sweet, sour me
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| But that sugar rots your teeth, now you can’t speak
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| You couldn’t get another dollar outta me, uh uh
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| You couldn’t get another dollar outta me, uh uh
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| Everything that you say sounds sweet, sour me
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| But that sugar rots your teeth, now you can’t speak
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| You couldn’t get another dollar outta me, uh uh
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| You couldn’t get another dollar outta me, uh uh
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| Well if it don’t make a dollar, it don’t make cents
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| If it don’t make them hotter, that don’t make em dense
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| Ya’ll don’t be makin hits, don’t shift blame
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| What ya’ll wrote don’t make sense, dope shit’s playin
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| There’s a difference between the two, I won’t explain
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| Should be easy for even you, I don’t fix lames
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| Everything that you sayin sound, sugar-shack sweet
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| Now your mouth is full of rotten, lookin black teeth
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| Please, please, you couldn’t squeeze
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| Blood outta stone
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| Or love outta home
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| Blunts outta my zone
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| I’m all outta loans, all out on my own
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| And I’m all about the dough, all about the dough |