| I would tell each and every person out there
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| Doh-Forget about that click n up Sh-thing, you know what I mean?
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| Be to yourself, stay to yourself, trust nobody
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| TRUST NO-BODY
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| After dark, you know what I mean?
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| Straight up, my closest friends did me in
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| My closest friends, my homies, people who I done took care of they whole family
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| I done took care of everything for em, looked out for them, put em in the game
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| Everything! |
| Turned on me!
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| Fear is stronger than love, remember that
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| Fear is stronger than love, all the love I gave, didn’t mean nothing when it
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| came to fear
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| So it’s all good, but I’m a soldier, I always survive, I constantly come back
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| Ya know what I mean? |
| Only thing that can kill me, is death, that’s the only
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| thing that will ever stop me, is death
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| And even then my music live forever
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| Check!
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| I’m a genius when it comes to spittin' flows
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| My sixteens hard, don’t act as if you didn’t know
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| I’m laying low, not in a circle
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| But blowing O’s and hoping that Buddha knows
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| That there’s plenty of foes with four fours
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| Tryna get a nigga clipped quick!
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| It sick shit going on, but I try to stay calm, and focus on songs
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| Because ones that’s doing wrong, tryna have me tag along
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| And word is bond, I rather bomb word vapor from bongs
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| That’s word with no friends
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| No games when I hold pens, and these hoes, they hoping
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| That my heart, will open, and let em into the cash
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| But my mind sets lab
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| Like they did when I was in class, just struggling to pass
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| But at last I past them, with the stash and my live 10
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| You boyfriend ask him, he know that there’s crack in my
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| Tracks when I rap, people clap and react fast
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| Because they know that Nehru and this rap shit is gonna last
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| It’s the fact that I’m everything that you lack, nigga you whack
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| Don’t act like I ain’t murder these rappers with one track
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| The lights leak, the bright peak, start of the show
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| Now I got you, and your ho front row at my show, whoa!
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| Now I got you, and your ho front row at my show, whoa!
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| You and your ho front row at my show, whoa! |
| (whoa)
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| Now I got you, and your ho front row at my show, whoa!
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| But shit slow, cause there’s no entry
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| For ones that tryna tempt me
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| With ounces of sticky, and icky bitches that’s tryna get me
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| Hit with a charge, cause the kid live large
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| In the stars is where I rest, and my bars they be the best
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| And I bust it out my chest
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| And clowns, I never stress
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| They seeing, they could progress
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| So they tryna get with the cheques
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| Hah! |
| Fickle Mind$ tryna blind a nigga shine
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| My grind, never combine with people that’s on the side
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| Because all of them living lies, and I be living these lines
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| Like lives,
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| below foes, there’s always a no-soul
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| Don’t go «Oh No», when you notice the kid is global
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| When your ho’s backstage giving me a slow blow
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| I know I spit advance right? |
| That’s why my advance right
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| I’m killing any rapper that stand with a pen and mic
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| Stay outta sight, and I’m tryna be polite
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| But I swear when a nigga write from the pen acetyl ignite
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| It’s like (x3) |