| I feel the pressure in pain, you may think I’m insane,
|
| feel like a bullet hit your brain, when they mention my name.
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| Oh no no we not the same, this streets shit in my vein, you start catching
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| cases when you start switching your game,
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| now they dressing the plate, they arrest any day, sent my brother to the pit
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| and learn his lesson again.
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| There’s no food in the refrigerator or I feel up the plate,
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| OK, lets load up our nigga haters and get of the chain, ma ma ma Martin luther
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| king,
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| Malcolm X I’m next these crackerz either gon kill me or they gon gimme respect.
|
| Tired of breaking my neck, standing out on this balcony like this all you gon
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| get,
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| for I calling the calvary attention, there will be no one after me,
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| none of these rappers is half of me, give me half of your salary bitch.
|
| I’m riding coach class tryna get my ass home,
|
| first class ain’t talking about shit, where’s my headphones.
|
| Don’t want to hear it, I can’t hear you, where’s my headphones
|
| Push your head in the rain, jumpin top in the sun, at the bottom of the barrel,
|
| but I know I’m the one, put down my kingdom they come, yes king david is here,
|
| after knocking down goliath, there is no one I fear.
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| Lord have mercy on me, pa put this cursing on me,
|
| I know it’s crazy but I forgive my worse enemy,
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| for him not know who I be,
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| so him not know what he do,
|
| and when you stand at his casket
|
| know it that could be you, meet ya.
|
| keep our lips counseled the problem we do,
|
| truth is won’t matter is if we get caught we through,
|
| something like Adam and Eve just don’t eat the fruit,
|
| ain’t no age limit in this we recruit, come on.
|
| Single five line walking through this mind field,
|
| all these soulja’s lamp out there life, but my real.
|
| Still in coach class tryna get my ass home,
|
| first class ain’t talking about shit,
|
| where’s my mother fuckin headphones.
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| Don’t want to hear it, I can’t hear you, where’s my headphones |