| We smashing,
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| Thousand be the head of the class 'n'
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| Rollin thru ya party with the stereo blastin’we creepin'
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| It’s bin’seven since last weekend,
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| Everybody in the club freekin'
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| And in the corner, I can see ya standin’there,
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| Black jacket 'n'long hair we’ve been exchanging stares,
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| 'n'I know ya, 'n'what'cha thinkin’yeah right,
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| Wearin’ya clothes air-tight at the club every night 'n',
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| Don’t’cha know that brothers don’t like the girls,
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| That be into the guys that be tellin them lies 'n'listen here hun,
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| Life’s more than this,
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| Ya tryin to tell me that’cha never get bored of this?,
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| Yo, check this who you eye’in up for ya set list,
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| Frontin’with ya fake gold necklace,
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| Not respected, 'n'yet ya wonderin’why,
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| Seen the gleam in ya eyes, as soon as ya spotted them dolla signs $,
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| Girl what’s next? |
| who you hittin’up for the rolex?
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| Brothers need to clear their specs,
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| Boy ya gettin’gamed on, thinkin’she loves you 'n'all that,
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| Need to get it all back, move on 'n'step off that,
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| She’s the wrong type, but same goes for females,
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| Cuz’guys be spittin’lies, not telling the details,
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| In the fine print, baby girl, don’t sweat it,
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| Cuz one of these days you’ll regret it,
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| And yo, the moral of the story is,
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| Dogs and cats are notorious, for gettin’funny around cash money,
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| So lesson learned, 'n'ya playin’with fire get burned,
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| Respect yourself, peace, kid hope ya learned
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| You think ya somethin’more ya so supafly,
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| To the fact you’re blind, you’re so empty inside,
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| It’s hard for me to get this thru to you,
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| To the fact ya blind, baby, blind, baby,
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| Well it’s the Sundance Kid,
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| Yo the rap villain, man for real and,
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| Peeps catchin’feelin’s of the lyrical caps that I’m peeling,
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| Makin’noise y’all, me 'n'my krutch boys y’all, stand tall,
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| Cuz yo we ain’t never gonna fall, man forget that,
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| Yo, we’ll keep constantly comin’right back,
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| Like CHRIST when he rose on the third
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| Strikin’ya nerves take ya down, down, like Titanic to icebergs,
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| If ya messin’with a girl for her curves,
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| And yo, ya might be, you think ya somethin high and mighty,
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| Might be that you be frontin,
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| Most likely, no doubt, money be singin’the same song,
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| Respect yourself hun, it’s the 34th Psalm
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| And sometimes I feel, so unbreakable, I’m so forsakeable,
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| I’m shattered,
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| And things aren’t as they seem,
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| They’re so in between, they’re so make believe,
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| That it’s un-real,
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| And wake me up when things are better,
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| Cuz I can’t take much more of this and take these rags,
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| But leave my comfortable sweater,
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| And leave me alone, then leave me alone, alone, alone, a-lone |