| Fuck these haters, I’d kill ‘em all if I could
|
| Ain’t scared of none of y’all, so you know my aim good
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| Blowin bin Ladie in my Porsche 911
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| Just left Ground Zero, on my way to kush heaven
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| Can’t slow down, too much evil in my rear view
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| Sometimes you wanna scream to God, but he can’t hear you
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| And even if you did, this’ll probably be his answer
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| Fuck you ‘plainin' 'bout? |
| It ain’t like you got cancer
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| Do it for my niggas on the block that got it worse
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| First the love, then the hate, that just a trap nigga’s curse
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| I betcha feel like the whole world hatin' on you
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| But what’s the holdup? |
| The whole world waitin' on you
|
| (The fame…)
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| I wake up and feel empty
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| Shit make you wanna squeeze your Glock 'til it’s empty
|
| I’m already standin' on the edge, so don’t tempt me
|
| Fake motherfuckers envy
|
| (The fame…)
|
| I wake up and feel empty
|
| Shit make you wanna squeeze your Glock 'til it’s empty
|
| I’m already standin' on the edge, so don’t tempt me
|
| Fake motherfuckers envy
|
| You mean to tell me from runnin' my big mouth
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| That I could chill here in this big penthouse
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| All elevator’d up, black hardwood floors
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| Just to sit around and feel like it ain’t yours
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| Your conscience gotcha feelin' like you done somethin' wrong
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| But the flatscreen say motherfucker, we on
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| Pardon me, nigga, do you see this view?
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| See Ruth’s Chris from here, what the fuck’s wrong wit' you
|
| Lookin' at my Rollie, yeah, it’s almost seven
|
| Bill Gates state of mind wit' a automatic weapon
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| You might ‘member from puttin' on for the city
|
| Or back when it was on two, goin' for the fitty
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| Opened up a few squares, opened up a few tours
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| Just to show niggas keys open up doors
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| «Oh, we don’t fuck wit' Young no mo'» Why not?
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| The only thing I can figure, 'cause he on top
|
| (The fame…)
|
| I wake up and feel empty
|
| Shit make you wanna squeeze your Glock 'til it’s empty
|
| I’m already standin' on the edge, so don’t tempt me
|
| Fake motherfuckers envy
|
| (The fame…)
|
| I wake up and feel empty
|
| Shit make you wanna squeeze your Glock 'til it’s empty
|
| I’m already standin' on the edge, so don’t tempt me
|
| Fake motherfuckers tempt me
|
| (The fame…)
|
| What up, world?
|
| (Did you miss me?)
|
| Long time, huh?
|
| (Stop that)
|
| Hey, look
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| Lately, I been off and out of sight, seldom out of mind
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| Ay, getcha business' right, and stay the hell up out of mine
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| I’m out my mind, tryin' to fix it ‘fore I’m out of time
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| Don’t worry 'bout me, God got me, bruh, I’m doin' fine
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| Another year in prison, promise this is it for me
|
| Tryna make it through the storm, should be makin' history
|
| No feelin' sorry for me, keep ya pity and ya sympathy
|
| Good or bad, take it like a man, whatever meant for me
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| How I did it make ‘em hate my spirit, they wish they could kill it
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| And they’ll take it however they can get it
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| Wanna see me fulla misery, walkin' wit' my head down
|
| «Let's decapitate him, then we’ll see if he can wear his crown!»
|
| (The fame…)
|
| I wake up and feel empty
|
| Shit make you wanna squeeze your Glock 'til it’s empty
|
| I’m already standin' on the edge, so don’t tempt me
|
| Fake motherfuckers envy
|
| (The fame…)
|
| I wake up and feel empty
|
| Shit make you wanna squeeze your Glock 'til it’s empty
|
| I’m already standin' on the edge, so don’t tempt me
|
| Fake motherfuckers envy
|
| (The fame…)
|
| I wake up and feel empty
|
| Shit make you wanna squeeze your Glock 'til it’s empty
|
| I’m already standin' on the edge, so don’t tempt me
|
| Fake motherfuckers envy
|
| (The fame…) I wake up and feel empty
|
| Shit make you wanna squeeze your Glock 'til it’s empty
|
| I’m already standin' on the edge, so don’t tempt me
|
| Fake motherfuckers envy
|
| (The fame…) |