| Cause I’ve been dropping hits, since ten years ago
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| Trying to do it legal, and not slang yayo
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| If I can’t get it legal, to the corner I go
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| I never took pride, in slanging cocaine
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| Never could get a job, but needed some mo' change
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| C.d.'s wasn’t selling, because I had no name
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| Nothing but a t-shirt, no piece no chain
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| Too many times, I was ready to give up
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| Run up in a bank, and say this is a stick-up
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| Put my pain on records, and record sales picked up
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| The tears I done shed, led me to the big bucks
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| 2000 and 4, I ain’t broke no mo'
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| Cause God is my life jacket, when I sink solo
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| I went to a hundred thousand, from a whole fo'
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| So all you haters hate me, as I make a little mo'
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| I’m going platinum this time, (this time-this time)
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| I think you fellas, better respect my mind (mind-mind)
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| I’m here to collect my pennies, my nickels and my dimes (my dimes-my dimes)
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| And ain’t nobody gonna block out my shine (shine-shine)
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| They got me living in a '56, Mass L
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| My locker full of commsary, and my fan mail
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| My city saying Z-Ro, what you gon do when you get out of jail
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| I can’t do no mo' pyrexes, no mo' scales
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| Trying to make a million dollas, off my melody
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| Couldn’t see it coming, so I caught a state-jail felony
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| F-1 bunk twelve, there resides the stars
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| Special thanks to love, cause «I Hate U Bitch» climbed me to the top of the
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| charts
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| Being free, is like being on lock
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| Niggas still kick it with ya, but try to get some of what ya got
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| I ain’t never seen, so many feminine men
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| Swear to God they holding in the world, but ain’t nobody seeing dividends
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| That ain’t the life of me, I had to get it
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| Might not be rich in the present, but I’ma be rich in a minute
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| Cause I got three Cuzos sitting up high, rolling 24's
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| Screaming A.B.N. |
| get in the do', waiting for Ro
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| Jealousy and envy, play a major role
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| Everytime a playa, try to get his pockets swoll
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| Somebody said I did this, and said I did that
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| Even told homicide, I pushed the homie’s wig back
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| They don’t wanna see, a nigga make it out of poverty
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| When will they realize, God is running with me ain’t no stopping me
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| Probably never will, so keep on trying
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| You can clip my wings, but I see happiness in the sky so I’ma keep on flying
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| Until I find, a rested place
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| So many battle scars, blood on my chest and face
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| Whether I’m working or rapping 24/7, me and Satan be scrapping
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| He want my soul, but I ain’t gon let it happen
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| Even if I lose my life, trying to chase my dream
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| Whoever do me, gon have hell when they face my team
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| I got them same three Cuzos holding me down, if I ain’t coming back
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| Bet they bury me with g-stacks, plus a platinum plack |