| I taste the bitter
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| And the sweet
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| The sweet and the bitter
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| Number one draft pick
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| Metaphysic flow spit up Sip my own licks as strong like pop liquor
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| Drink from my flask, kick back till it hit ya Hick up, excused we sipping Jah brew
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| Got me so high, hardly know what to do Been waiting y’all, glad you finally came true
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| Celebration of yaself, family and friends too
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| Crew, who? |
| Said it’s taboo, for me to show my feelings
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| Don’t you know I’m loving you?
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| Capiche, released stress at the doormat
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| Fresh with the raw rap collapse in your format
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| Backspin again, Jah 'll wade your waistline (???)
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| Why hate and waste time, bounce with the bass line
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| Follow, to sunsets and tomorrow, why rappers don’t never
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| Understand their role models, sick with the bottle
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| Let it get hollow, medic, get sweaty by the spit (of)my motto
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| Holler back, I’ve died cold and you got the 'nac
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| I’m asking all of my people, where ya loving at?
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| So don’t fight the feeling
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| When we got it right here
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| We ain’t going nowhere
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| Open your mind
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| When we got it right here
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| We ain’t going nowhere
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| I shot the tribe: death, Judah
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| Twelve when I delve
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| Deep into your mind
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| Praise Jah know yaself
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| Wealth is at state in A mental debate
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| It’s all in the fate
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| Plant seeds then you wait
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| Be patient, backwards ??? |
| is found
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| When the ancient are the living, stay down
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| Kings sport ya crown, queens sport ya crown
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| Jah brings light, now the cipher goes round
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| We build, chill, party, act ill
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| Then we back to the lab for some more battle drills
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| Skills that’s for real, fellness is kill, houseless is lost
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| In the blizzards of their mills, still I arise
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| My a ancestors let my soul catch fire
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| And serve as a beacon, for lost soulseeking
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| A candle per say like in a dark day
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| We reaching sky high, help me get by Sometimes I need a boost, so I touch the lye
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| Don’t fight the feeling, when I write
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| Revealing I’m a light the mic, with hype
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| Might you fiending for
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| Cold Cold copper
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| Skinny, rap 's in it proper
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| Drop funk like a sock in ya gym locker
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| Pop collars, I rock impala’s
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| Meet me at the beach, money rain dollars
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| Rhyme scholars, the green and the MP
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| I plan to be out like Marcus Garvey
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| See D-awn, trip on ya sizzle, cocaine and pistols
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| Boy that’s a issue or two, you can 't see thru the lies
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| Control the mind, lord knows I’m trying
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| Resign, flip manuscripts It’s amp live with the beat
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| And boom tick |