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Yeah My grandmomma had high hopes I don't want to die bro I just spread love and leave this b*t*h on a high note If we talkin' money then you n***as got my vote The pu**y might be good but these b*t*hes is psychos That's facts, I never sit with twelve and tell info' They run up on you pullin' techs out they Chanel trench coats b*t*h, I rep Atlanta like I'm Arthur Blank's assault rifles Look just like them sh*ts that they shoot off of tanks As we been gettin' money, my memory often draws a blank If it's beef, Chef Boyar Benton cook all the flakes Yeah, you know the God can't be boxed in b*t*h, I'm in top ten since I was signed with Hopsin Drugs got me 'noyed, I feel like somebody watchin' My circle gettin' small 'cause I feel like somebody plottin' I lost a good friend who was sniffin' up oxycontin Wish I knew you was depressed, now you stiff in that box, rottin' I play the tough guy like I wasn't suppressing fears Thought I wasn't good enough 'cause I wasn't impressing peers Now it's f**k a favorite rapper, I'm the God Used to look up to you n***as 'til I found out they all frauds Yeah, I'm finna ride on my enemies f**k a drive-by, I'll walk up on you, like "You remember me?" After I kill 'em, I pray that I find some inner peace My demons keep me up, swear to God, I cannot get any sleep Yeah, uh, hail Mary It's [?] and the bodies are well buried Eh, somebody call a pastor Disobedient slave is 'bout to body all the masters Motherf**ker
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