| Search and you will find
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| Cloud, cloud, cloud, cloud, cloud
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| Look around, what you see?
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| I see God, I see you, I see me
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| No facade, this is real, ain’t no fakin'
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| Dead homies ain’t coming back, we gotta make it
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| Welcome to the I.E., where summers warmer and death is normal
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| Funerals so frequent, half of us stop dressing formal
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| Where niggas pride they self on Jordans, every pair
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| And Supreme, same scenes I’ve seen like everywhere
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| Where kids listen to Lil Yachty over Chris Wallace
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| And real ones never hate on a black man with a thick wallet
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| That sounds like a place I just invented
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| 'Cause it sure ain’t no scrimmage
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| When they see you out here getting your spinach
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| I try to follow God and proceed to walk in his image
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| But groupies swallow all of it, and it’s hard in this business
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| So get up off your ass 'cause you know you gotta get something
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| And rake it up 'cause snakes exist and they’ll kill you for nothing
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| Look, Cornbread got popped, Madlocks got popped
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| T2 got popped, gang sweep, knock-knock, yeah
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| More homies went down, meanwhile I’m not in town
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| I’m adjusting my crown, me and my brother created a sound
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| Then I found my freedom, 'cause they ain’t giving out freedom
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| A 100 miles, I’m speeding, on 10 East, chiefin'
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| And I don’t come out that much 'cause these little dusty niggas is beefin'
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| Protect us at all costs 'cause they listen to me when I’m speakin'
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| They love dead black bodies, popped him in his head prolly
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| Rap game Muhammad Ali, back to basics, Ali
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| I just meditate for my peace, and levitate for my piece of mind
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| And it works for me every time
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| It’s a cloud for every one of our souls, just take a pick
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| Connected to the creator, just make a wish
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| I wish that all these so-called leaders would navigate
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| I wish the Internet didn’t force us to fabricate
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| I wish I could clear these negative thoughts trapped in my head
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| Wish I could bring City, Too Much, Harold, back from the dead
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| TC, T2, kiss my granny while she lay in her bed
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| Boocho, Demi, Cousin Motor, Montre, take me instead
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| All these tears that I’ve shed, could fill the Nile River and more
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| I hear God inside me, I’m listening more
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| I got one side that wanna hold the fist high in the midst of the war
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| And the other hand might let this clip fly if you trip in this store
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| We all hypocrites wanting Heaven, ready to kick in the door
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| 'Til the pastor touch your son, now you don’t even know what religion is for
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| She at Planned Parenthood, don’t know if she should get the abortion
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| But her baby daddy just got life with evidence missing in court
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| Sound like the 909, where summer’s warmer and death is normal
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| It’s funerals only time his mom could afford to dress him formal
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| Whoa, I had to slow it down to calculate the run-up
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| The real come-up is when you stop tryna come up
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| This a message for them simple managers and label bastards
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| You might get the masters but you’ll never get the master
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| Keep the bondage, don’t need the homage, don’t read the comments
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| I don’t see the hate, just feel the love
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| I use these clouds to build me up |