| Some days I just wanna up and call it quits
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| I feel like I’m surrounded by a wall of bricks
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| Every time I go to get up I just fall in pits
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| My life’s like one great big ball of sh*t
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| If I could just, put it all into all I spit
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| Instead of always tryin' to swallow it
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| Instead of starin' at this wall and sh*t
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| While I sit writer’s block, sick of all this sh*t
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| Can’t call it, sh*t
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| All I know is I’m about to hit the wall
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| If I have to see another one of mom’s alcoholic fits
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| This is it, last straw, that’s all, that’s it
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| I ain’t dealin' with another fuckin politic
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| I’m like a skillet bubblin' until it filters up
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| I’m about to kill it, I can feel it buildin' up
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| Blow this building up, I’ve concealed enough
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| My cup, runneth over, I done filled it up
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| The pen explodes and busts, ink spills my guts
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| You think, all I do is stand here and feel my nuts?
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| Well I’mma show you what, you gon' feel my rush
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| You don’t feel it, then it must be too real to touch
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| Peel the dutch, I’m about to tear sh*t up
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| Goosebumps yea, I’mma make your hair sit up
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| Yea sit up, I’mma tell you who I be
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| I’mma make you hate me, cause you ain’t me
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| You wait, it ain’t too late to finally see
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| What you closed-minded fucks were too blind to see
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| Whoever finds me is gonna get a finder’s fee
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| Out this world, ain’t no one out there mind as me
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| You need peace of mind? |
| Here’s a piece of mine
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| All I need’s a line
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| But sometimes I don’t always find the words to rhyme
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| To express how I’m really feelin' at that time
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| Yea sometimes sometimes sometimes
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| It’s just sometimes, it’s always me
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| How dark can these hallways be?
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| The clock strikes midnight, one-two, then half past three
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| This half-assed rhyme with this half-assed piece of paper
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| I’m desperate at my desk
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| If I can just get the rest of the shit off my chest again
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| Stuck in a slump, can’t think of nothin'
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| Fuck I’m stumped, but wait, here comes somethin'
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| Nope, it’s not good enough, scribble it out
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| New pad, crinkle it up, and throw the sh*t out
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| I’m fizzlin' now, thought I figured it out
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| Ball’s in my court, but I’m scared to dribble it out
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| I’m afraid, but why am I afraid?
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| Why am I a slave to this trade?
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| Cyanide I spit to the grave
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| Real enough to rile you up
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| Want me to flip it I can rip it any style you want
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| I’m a switch hitter b*tch, Jimmy Smith’s ain’t a quitter
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| I’mma sit until I get enough in me to finally hit a
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| Fuckin' boilin' point, put some oil in your joints
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| Flip the coin bitch, come get destroyed
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| An MC’s worst dream, I make 'em tense
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| They hate me, see me and shake like a chain-link fence
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| By the looks of 'em, you would swear their jaws was comin'
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| By the screams of 'em, you would swear I’m sawin' someone
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| By the way they’re runnin, you would swear the law was comin'
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| It’s now or never and tonight is all or nothin'
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| Momma Jimmy keeps leavin' on us, he said he’d be back
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| He pinky promised, I don’t think he’s honest
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| I’ll be back baby, I just gotta beat this clock
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| F*ck this clock, I’ma make 'em eat this watch
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| Don’t believe me watch, I’mma win this race
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| And I’mma come back and rub my sh*t in your face, bitch
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| I found my niche, you gon' hear my voice
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| 'Til you sick of it, you ain’t gonna have a choice
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| If I gotta scream 'til I have half a lung
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| If I had half a chance I’d grab it
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| Rabbit run |