| Imma try to paint a picture for you perfectly clear
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| Not Picasso, but hot though, so open your ears
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| Gutter living, vilant visions, that’s my quote of the year
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| In pursuit of all my blessings, and I’m hoping they near
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| As I cage all my rage, and spit it loud on this page
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| Let’s engage from the days when I slaved to get payed
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| And I can maybe find a piece of me to leave in this game
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| One last little piece of me that didn’t get slain
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| See the hood way is heavy, and it’s easy to stain
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| I done lost so many homies, they like spots on the brain
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| I take shots for the pain, pretty much the whole bottle
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| And it pays to be tame, go hard, full throttle
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| No excuses, try to use it for my music, you dig?
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| God’s feelings, gutter children, you feel it, my nig?
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| I reflect on the past, and try to turn it to cash
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| Some good, some bad, but it was all that we had
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| From a young buck, I came up, rough and ruggid
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| A hood full of hustlers, don’t knock the hustle
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| When I think back, and think of my reflections
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| I could see now, that that was just a lesson
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| So I make it history, outgrow the food
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| Maintain the wisdom, do what I gotta do
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| Sometimes, I can use it as a reffrance
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| The good use of all my reflections
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| Wouldn’t exchange my tribulations, that’s what made me more of a man
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| Had a sick and twisted childhood, so I’m as strong as I am
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| Plenty of homies feenin, lost a few to the grave
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| A life sentence couldn’t fix us, we just had to get payed
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| I’m surrounded by the hustlers, watch hustlers play
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| Watchin customers get knuckled up at big homie’s safe
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| Just a younging with the thunder, but I’m hungry as hell
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| Made moves, payed doos, I got prodict to sell
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| Splittin wigs, gettin big, homie stick to the plan
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| Still slanging, gangbanging, screaming high till I land
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| 56 the villain block, we too strong to be stopped
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| Work these corners like the boarder, feends rockin for rocks
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| Pick my pay up, got my weight up, went from thunder to savage
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| Now the respect they show me, I’m known for the cabbage
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| Doing dammage, extra savage, Imma blame it on the liquor
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| My gutter trail page, I go hard on these niggas
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| From a young buck, I came up, rough and ruggid
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| A hood full of hustlers, don’t knock the hustle
|
| When I think back, and think of my reflections
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| I could see now, that that was just a lesson
|
| So I make it history, outgrow the food
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| Maintain the wisdom, do what I gotta do
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| Sometimes, I can use it as a reffrance
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| The good use of all my reflections
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| Now I’m grown, standing out, plus a family man
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| Left the hood like I should, but I’m switchin the plan
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| Palms hurt in this verse, so I can tell you it hurts
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| All my homies dead and gone, they lost they lives on the terf
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| Rest in piece to the homies that we lost in the field
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| Scream your name in my music, put you into my music
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| My hoggish ways made them see I’m a site to behold
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| Strange Music and this gutter movement ready to roll
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| Black and white, different walks of life feeling it though
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| Gutter vision so apealing, I connect with them all
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| See the truth in this villain’s eyes, never no lies
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| Tryna rise, tryna reach the sky and hoping I can fly
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| Tech an9na plus gutter music, he winning again
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| And my vision, ain’t no stopping me, you letting me in
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| Me and my dogs back to get it, want what’s rightfully mine
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| Had songs so strong, before the villain got signed
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| From a young buck, I came up, rough and ruggid
|
| A hood full of hustlers, don’t knock the hustle
|
| When I think back, and think of my reflections
|
| I could see now, that that was just a lesson
|
| So I make it history, outgrow the food
|
| Maintain the wisdom, do what I gotta do
|
| Sometimes, I can use it as a reffrance
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| The good use of all my reflections |