| I got a drip, catch me duckin'
|
| All of these bitches ain’t fucking me, no
|
| Can’t hold a conversation with no one but my cousin
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| He tell me, «Don't worry, the money is comin'
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| These bitches is coming»
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| Yeah
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| The only question I got now, will I see it before I end up dug in the ground?
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| Lay low at the bottom of a tulip bed
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| They know Ruby got a lot of useless thread
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| Cut me open, let me rest, there ain’t nothin' in my chest
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| A hollow cage that caused my death
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| I’m hauled away, just pause my breath
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| Woke up dope sick with a cut wrist
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| Lil' bad bitch saying, «here's a plot twist»
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| When you cut it, you weren’t even a little pissed
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| Just a grin on your face, saying, «watch this!»
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| Now I’m sittin' back thinkin' how sick am I?
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| But that went away the moment I got high
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| I’m saying now, «what it do, who are you?
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| Get the fuck out my living room
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| Get the fuck out my mental too
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| What, bitch? |
| You can’t hear when I talk to you?»
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| Now I’m back to square one, with my hand on the gun
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| Mama screaming, «Son, don’t do it—I love you, don’t do it, don’t do it,
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| don’t do it»
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| I can’t help this feeling
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| Don’t you see that I need all these prescriptions?
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| This ain’t no living
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| It’s only a vision of the vicious cycle that is my addiction |