| I guess she doesn’t know she’s worth it
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| She’s got the body of a goddess but a mind much less than perfect
|
| Surface, conversation’s great but wait 'til after the show
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| I seen her break and take the bait to the front row
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| While the blunt slow burning in the back
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| She approaches a big name, and says he has a knack, for rap, and how his shit
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| was fat
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| She really liked his style, until he starts to smile
|
| While, the others look on, and some get hooked on being a star
|
| We see from afar how it goes
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| Now suppose the situation’s yours
|
| Could you resist if they came by the 4's or more?
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| Whores? |
| In plain clothes, they got the same goals, stained souls
|
| Some are unnamed hoes
|
| Gettin' stuck
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| Sittin' ducks in the water
|
| Now how would you feel if one of them was your daughter?
|
| You brought her up your best, but nonetheless
|
| You can’t control the destt… iny of a groupie
|
| You were swallowed by the sea of the lonely-low lifestyle
|
| Rather foul how you livin' (livin')
|
| And often times I see it boy
|
| It makes me think twice how I value my vision (vision)
|
| Swallowed by the sea of the lonely-low lifestyle
|
| It’s rather foul how you livin' (livin')
|
| And often times I see it boy
|
| It makes me think twice how I value my vision (vision)
|
| I’m from a group that be doin' some thangs
|
| But animosity keeps surrounding the name
|
| Mystic, unsigned and hella broke
|
| Cell phone promoted and devoted we keep laughing at jokes
|
| Around the road to enlightenment
|
| It’s a trip when you pay hella dues and fools fill your shoes up
|
| I guess it’s more like a compliment, if they realize all the blood, sweat,
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| and tears, and the lives of
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| Men, who put they life on the line
|
| Beyond the fresh battle rhyme you were jocking metaphors, time’s
|
| Up, and give it up like my single, or get your ass up for the track party people
|
| It’s a balance of a lyric and some music all in one
|
| Creatively way above the minds of the dumb (come)
|
| Back, to the truth we’ll be waiting, frontin' on advancements
|
| Eternally debating
|
| You hip-hop heads don’t see, me
|
| For really who I am, so how could you be my man?
|
| You always askin' me for beats and shit
|
| When really I’d like to help but I haven’t even peeped your shit
|
| I come as equipped as I can and that’s my plan
|
| I give a fuck less about Polo and Timbaland
|
| Or how many hands I give pounds to
|
| I don’t surround you with lyrics in your ear, motherfucker don’t you hear
|
| English?
|
| Sing this song back, it’s not a long track, use the palm clap, to keep it on
|
| time
|
| I’m on the climb, I’m up front
|
| Not sublime
|
| I watch you bitches like mimes 'cause you don’t need lines to read your minds
|
| I only roll with originators, down to earth players
|
| Chillin' like refrigerators
|
| You haters, I didn’t buy my shit for you
|
| So if you don’t like it keep quiet 'cause I do
|
| Only a few fools is folks, you other jokes spoke too quickly
|
| Mother told me, not to hang around with sickly looking individuals
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| With no visual perception
|
| I suggest you step and, go your own direction |