| I came a long way, brought up the wrong way
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| My life used to be fucked, that’s all I’m gon' say
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| Cause you already know how the game go
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| All over the globe, it’s only more of the same, yo
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| Day by day, we all work hard for pay
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| Doin' what we got to do to survive
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| If you don’t, that’s for you to decide
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| Is you down to ride? |
| Hustle? |
| Provide the muscle?
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| But then go from every angle to piece of the puzzle?
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| Yo-- I’m tryin' to pawn the buckle
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| Make the struggle worth all my trouble
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| The hood gonna love the new Fatlip
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| No, I’m not the crack addict
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| Bitch ass niggas who slept before my last shit
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| My style is classic
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| Born to be classic
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| Peace to O.D., the bastard
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| And fuck America
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| Comin' through in the clutch, ready to touch as much as possible
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| So I’m gonna do what I gots to do
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| Get money, make money by any means
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| Whatever that means, no more pork and beans
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| Fresh and clean, physically as well as mental
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| Inventing my schemes, cause my cream is essential
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| Ride ride ride ride ride ride ride ride!
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| Back again, straight out the trash can
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| Startin' back in the game with a master plan
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| Tryin' to get this money just as fast as I can
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| Procrastination is disastrous, man
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| My shit’s critical, but little identical
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| To the nigga that up and split thirty years ago
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| But today’s my day, babe
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| Formulate a plan to stay paid, for six more decades
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| Invest my cash, stash a little nest egg
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| Nothing but the fly shit, I wanna buy shit
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| Homes in Rome, Cadillac chrome
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| Trust funds for my little sons when they grown
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| Cool little hideaway spot that I own
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| So all y’all suckers can leave me the fuck alone
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| I don’t wanna be bothered, don’t bother to holler
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| Yo squeak, let me borrow a dollar to get home
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| Comin' through in the clutch, ready to touch as much as possible
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| So I’m gonna do what I gots to do
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| Get money, make money by any means
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| Whatever that means, no more pork and beans
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| Fresh and clean, physically as well as mental
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| Inventing my schemes, cause my cream is essential
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| Ride ride ride ride ride ride ride ride!
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| Everybody broke, it really ain’t a joke
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| I’m asking my sister for cigarettes to smoke
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| Borrowing clothes from my brother
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| Was so cold we all three be living with my mother
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| Running up the phone bill, can’t afford my own meal
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| At a time in her life when she’s supposed to chill
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| I’m sorry, mama, I’m irresponsible
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| As humanly possible, my mind is illogical
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| I get money one day, be broke the next
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| Six months left for the next publishing check
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| In the meantime, in between time
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| I beg D.V. |
| for a G to write these rhymes
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| Verbal famous, I speak that hobo language
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| It’s in my blood, pop train hopped in the rain and mud
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| Sleet and snow, to get where he had to go
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| Well fuck that, you know?
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| Comin' through in the clutch, ready to touch as much as possible
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| So I’m gonna do what I gots to do
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| Get money, make money by any means
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| Whatever that means, no more pork and beans
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| Fresh and clean, physically as well as mental
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| Inventing my schemes, cause my cream is essential
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| Ride ride ride ride ride ride ride ride!
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| Get money, make money (yo-yo-yo)
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| Make money, get money (yo-yo-yo)
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| Make money, get money (yo-yo-yo)
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| Ain’t a damn thing changed, you still need that change
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| More than that, dollars and cents, know what I’m sayin'?
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| So from here on out, from now on until infinity
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| You gonna see me on my grind baby
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| You know what I’m sayin'?
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| I know that shit sounds corny
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| Cause everybody talkin' 'bout tryin' to get money
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| But this shit is for real real really real real real
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| Know what I’m saying?
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| And that’s, you know, that’s all I can say
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| You know what I’m saying?
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| I’m gonna be rolling, and doing my little thing
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| Get my little Gotti doodads, my little blappers
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| Fat Leezy baby |