| 1: Red Pill
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| They say it’s hard to be yourself more than anyone else
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| Nobody knows what you felt or the pain that you
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| Been going through on a daily basis
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| Up and down so the change come in phases
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| We living in a judgmental place
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| Where some settle being somebody that they fake
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| All for the sake of saving face
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| But you lay awake and wonder who that person is you made
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| You struggle with the thought of you continuing
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| Living in that skin that you uncomfortable living in
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| And even Chris and Red Pill should be synonyms
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| For getting in this industry of fakes fucks, just killin' 'em
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| Cause living by that turn cheek and bit tongue
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| Wasn’t how I was raised and it isn’t where this kid’s from
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| That goes for rap life and real life
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| They been doing it forever about to see just what it feels like
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| Take it, leave it (uh)
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| Take it, leave it (yeah)
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| Take it, leave it
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| Take it, leave it
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| Take it (you can take it or leave it), leave it
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| Take it, (yeah, check it out, yeah) leave it
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| (Listen, yeah)
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| 2: Verbal Kent
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| I’ve always been the type of rapper to make your head nod
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| Why I swore I’d never take a desk job
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| Why I also swore I’d always be myself while
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| Others fake moves, yeah
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| But here I am I stay patient through the blues, yeah
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| I made it through the boos, now I’m showered with oohs
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| Aahs and ohs, crowds in all rows 'standing all these poems
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| And not to be cocky but sakee is in order
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| Cause life started out a bitch till I transformed her
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| Warmer on a treasure hunt, lemonade from lemons
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| Vodka from potatoes, hey yo pour it in the 7-Up
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| Same damn rapper that I ever was
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| Only difference now is I spit strictly over better cuts
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| Life’s unpredictable ain’t it?
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| Roll with the punches, throw 'em in bunches
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| It’s awful hard to explain it
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| I do my best though, sometimes I want to explode
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| But I keep on
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| A Castaway with nothing but his volleyball and his breast stroke
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| Hook |