| Yeah
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| Lot of folks want a check off me
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| Not a lot wanna check on me
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| Talkin' to me like, «Where's my cut?»
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| Like I got treasure chests on me
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| Talkin' to me like, «Damn, you changed»
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| Talkin' to me one mile a minute
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| Then they ask me for a picture, though
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| And wonder why I don’t smile in it
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| Ayy, put on my hoodie then put on my coat
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| Cover my face up so you didn’t know
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| See me in public with head to my toes
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| Probably me, you should leave me alone
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| Spent the whole week in the booth all alone
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| My manager want a song that is happy
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| Back to the lab to rewrite what I wrote
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| Maybe I cannot do this shit alone
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| Maybe I need me a ghostwriter too
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| Write me a song that I probably should use
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| Happy-go-lucky and sing me a tune
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| Maybe can help me with choruses too
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| Lord knows that isn’t my strong suit
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| Lord knows I’m lackin' attributes
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| Lord knows every time my manager call me
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| Motherfucker, I got this attitude
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| The worst part of doing things all by yourself
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| Is when they fall, you cannot blame nobody else
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| I could be on the floor and dying by myself
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| And still be too embarrassed, askin' for your help
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| I can’t complain, but if I could I probably would
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| So in that case, I’m doin' well, I’m doin' well, I’m doin' well
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| I’m 'bout to fall but when I pick up on your call
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| I’m doin' well, I’m doin' well
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| I’m smart enough to write this song
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| But not enough to go market it
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| Rich enough not to worry 'bout it
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| But not enough to let mama quit
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| I’m wise enough to know who I am
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| But not enough to know what I can be
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| Loud enough for them to hear me out
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| But not enough for them to understand me
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| I’m proud enough to brag all the time
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| But not enough to forget the flaws
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| Loyal enough to buy my friends a meal
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| But not enough to give my friend a job
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| I’m liked enough not to get kicked out
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| But not enough for them to invite me
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| Cool enough to bring a chick back
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| But not enough for her to really like me
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| Ayy, free shit, free shit, all around my house, just free shit
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| I’m famous enough to get shit for free
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| But not enough to get the shit I like
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| Reliable enough to kill the show
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| But not enough to show up on time
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| Believe in myself enough to grind
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| But not enough to not fucking sign
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| Ayy, tell the label I need a crib
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| With a tennis court for mommy and a bed for my bitch
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| Both of 'em know my life is all up in the air
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| Right now, this could be the biggest I get
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| So right now, tell my manager bring in the paperwork
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| I know that it ain’t about the money
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| Sure, I know how the paper work
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| I know how the fame work
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| I know how the dues work
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| I’m a success now, but still could be a loser
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| The worst part of doing things all by yourself
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| Is when they fall, you cannot blame nobody else
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| I could be on the floor and dying by myself
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| And still be too embarrassed, askin' for your help
|
| I can’t complain, but if I could I probably would
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| So in that case, I’m doin' well, I’m doin' well, I’m doin' well
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| I’m 'bout to fall but when I pick up on your call
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| I’m doin' well, I’m doin' well |