| Kweli!!!
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| Yeah! |
| They wasn’t expecting this! |
| that’s why ya Hahaha
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| Gotta hope for the best and play 'em for the worst, c’mon!
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| Muhfuckers is history!
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| C’mon!
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| This the story of — Lucy In The Sky Wit Diamonds
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| Ask her why she crying, she wanna live, she got no time for dying
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| Was a science, dreams too big for a small town
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| She gotta get to New York and watch a door fall down
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| Hopped off the Greyhound, gotta make her way now
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| She sleeping on the park benches in the playground
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| But cash burn quick, don’t wanna have to turn trick
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| Ready to quit 'til she met the super pimp
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| Flashing his toothy smile that drove little Lucy wild
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| She quick to hop up on his dick straight Hoopie style
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| She let the fella hit but she sang she sell-a-bit
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| He ain’t buying that, she ain’t selling it She looking for love in all of the above
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| Believing videos, trying to back up all on a thug
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| Who wanna — put it in her, withdraw like a Citi card
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| But now she shake that ass for tips at the titty bar
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| (Pharrell)
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| Broken glass — everywhere! |
| (IT'S LOUDER!!)
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| Louder — than a bomb shattered in in the air (IT'S LOUDER!!)
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| Try to hold back your tears baby! |
| (IT'S LOUDER!!)
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| Wait a second, what happens here baby? |
| (IT'S LOUDER!!)
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| Broken glass — everywhere! |
| (IT'S LOUDER!!)
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| Louder — than a bomb shattered in in the air, yeah
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| (How many of y’all think you can do what we do?!)
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| Yeah! |
| Wait a second (One! Two! Three! C’mon!)
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| Dreams shattered like broken glass
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| Press ignore it and your hopes get broken fast
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| You complain for the life you supposed to have
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| But when you try to make plans God is known to laugh
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| Throw a song on the phonograph, and Lucy start wilin
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| The trick start smiling, watch the loot start flying
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| The Gucci start pilling up, she live designer plush
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| Start lining up the coke so she could find a rush
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| Time’s up, she’s about to turn 33
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| Her shit started to sag, she got surgery
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| Now cats are used to drive past her like a Church van
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| Acting on thirst, 'She Wants To Move’like a N.E.R.D. |
| fan
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| Bigger house, 10,000 dollar purse fam
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| She let you in, she wanted rent by the 1st man
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| She the ring leader in a clique of birds
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| And they shadowy, like the silhouette behind the curtain
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| She was a small city girl with big city dreams
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| Niggaz try to figure how to get up in them jeans
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| Put her in them scenes, get her on the team
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| Hit her wit the cream 'til they figured out the schemes
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| Now she all up in the club looking for a new love
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| Really like Huey Lewis looking for a new drug
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| Cause coke’s getting old, started free basing
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| Graduated to crack, smack on occasion
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| Not catching the bus, but back at the station
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| Back and forth pacing, acting all impatient
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| Last hundred dollars, she got to 'Get By'
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| Now gotta make a choice, go home or get high
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| Mommy and daddy miss her, she left for the fame
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| Now what’s left is the dirt that’s thrown on her name
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| She need a ticket home if it’s the right course
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| Instead she bought a ticket to ride the white horse |