| The crazy man’s keepin' me up, I’m not sleepin'
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| My fit too fresh to be doin' the housekeepin'
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| The maids cost too much, started cleanin' my own closet
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| Livin' childhood fantasies, dealin' with grown problems
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| Got a brand new bae, she keep me good like the music
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| If the Roc is here, throw up your diamonds and hood cubics
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| No I.D. |
| said it’s time to take these goofy niggas out rap
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| Drop bombs over Baghdad on these SoundCloud outcasts
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| I stray away to say the way my days would be without rap
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| My mind drifts to back before the Chi was labelled Chiraq
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| Then Chief Keef dropped in 2012, now it’s a drill
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| I was waitin' in the wing like a bird on a windowsill
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| Now I’m the fresh prince, I think I know how my uncle feel
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| He sent this dope shit to my veins like fiends on any deal
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| After we build on existing structures, shift the culture
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| Like George Bush searchin' for weapons of mass destruction
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| Think I’m 'bout to blow! |
| But this ain’t the Middle East
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| This the midwest and we the royal family like Della Reese
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| SAVEMONEY the new dynasty like Death Row in '93
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| The same year my mother’s water broke on 57th St
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| Mama Mensah knew she raised a very special man
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| Young Muhammad in the ring with the power in my hands
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| To defy the federation like Ali in Vietnam
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| The Roc is still alive, throw your diamonds up again
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| Yeah, I carry the Roc like a runnin' back, hundred miles and runnin' back
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| Hov the president, he flyin' private in Obama’s jet
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| Vic the young hitta, I want it with any nigga
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| My problems' deeper than rap, ain’t a problem to bury niggas
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| Cemetery diggers will be ready for your favorite rapper
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| Catch him stompin' in my yard, I step up like a Beta Kappa
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| I am nothin' like these actors, they’re only on camera
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| I hit 'em in the head like Holly Holm hit Ronda
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| And my home is Rwanda, blood diamonds and minors
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| High school students with guns hidin' in their binder
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| Gotta wear a clear bookbag and wear a hood pass
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| Hit you from the blindside, that’s a no look pass
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| Rookie season, Steve Nash, they are just my sons
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| Catchin' alley-oops, catch 'em in the alley, oops
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| I heard a certain who’s who mad that I like the danger
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| Get your priorities straight like Hermione Granger
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| Sixteen in the magazine and one in the chamber
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| Sneak it in the club, that’s a club banger
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| This is not a diss song, this a disclaimer
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| Sorry that your management can’t manage my anger
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| Violence is not the answer but, Lord, they done brought it to me
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| You gon' see a side of me, the South Side taught it to me
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| They gon' think I’m Akeem when I pull up and pull
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| A semi Uzi, auto, fully out the Robert Geller hoodie
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| Yeah, Pelle Pelle bloody, Motown Berry Gordy
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| With the shits, lavatory, hell on Earth, purgatory
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| Minimums is mandatory, crack sentencin'
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| Bad parentin', put his dad on Maury, just another classic story
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| I know there’s no master for me, I don’t even buy chains
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| I don’t rock diamonds, I just need the Roc chain
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| I don’t get high no more, I go high octane
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| They should call the rap game my name, this is my game, Vic!
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| To the police (To the police)
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| You can not (You can not!)
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| You can not (You can not!)
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| You can not (You can not!)
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| You will not (You will not!)
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| Kill me (Kill me!)
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| If you want justice, make some noise, let’s go (whoo!)
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| 16 shots, 16 shots
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| 16 shots, 16 shots
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| 16 shots, 16 shots
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| 16 shots, 16 shots |