| Oh, it’s a cold world
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| Don’t let yourself be corrupted!
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| Be yourself! |
| Life’s second hand smoke!
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| Huh, life’s second hand smoke, thoughts of being a criminal
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| Far from being a doctor, my opera is singing
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| Around here it’s just me, buddy Ricky and Cameron
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| Mean when I heard nobody is anything scared them
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| Eleven, body street call, outside of the stream, though
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| Where all the niggas sell pounds, next week riding in three lows
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| Carrying two hundred, not dollars, thousands
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| No time for restrooms, you’re the size of the house is
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| Bring a pack to big homie, sit down, let’s count it
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| Odd in here, go by something for your housing
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| No spin it up, live it up, somebody rob you, just give it up
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| Don’t be selfish, appoint your niggas
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| Find something to split it up!
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| Ain’t even got to smoke to get faded
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| You ain’t gotta drink to say you made it
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| Oh na na, second hand smoke
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| No I don’t want no second hand smoke!
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| I ain’t worried about you, I’m a do what I like
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| My niggas keep it real, we ain’t living the life
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| Ain’t thinking with the second hand smoke
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| Ain’t no time for the second hand smoke
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| Yeah, yeah, life’s a second hand smoke, thoughts of being a criminal
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| Money needs, I should find a few girls and start pimping them
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| How should I ask, when I do it they handle it
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| Never mind, I go to like pimping and pondering, uh!
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| And I can’t do it to it’s record deals
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| I made it here in A team and Mr. Record Still
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| Follow up, the real hits me bottled up!
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| Used to snick soda and make dollar cups
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| And still never got enough, huh!
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| Ain’t even got to smoke to get faded
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| You ain’t gotta drink to say you made it
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| Oh na na, second hand smoke
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| No I don’t want no second hand smoke!
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| I ain’t worried about you, I’m a do what I like
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| My niggas keep it real, we ain’t living the life
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| Ain’t thinking with the second hand smoke
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| Ain’t no time for the second hand smoke |