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Talking to Myself
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Felly
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Alright, alright, let's go Yeah, something real, my heart's on sale, ain't hurt nobody But I still, can't get my fill, I wanna party And my ex, casting spells, 'til I'm not sorry All my tats, trace the years, upon my body Bumpin' heads, my heart goes out to everybody See their stares and I know deep down That they could probably use an ear And not someone to judge 'em like they do in the mirror And show 'em how to stop livin' in fear Cut my dreams short, too far-fetched Now you next, the woadie Back and forth with the same bullsh*t But you know I keep some hope wit' a flow like this These days, baby, I need more than sex The beats is digital, bad b*t*hes gettin' low Rich homies gettin' woke Oh, so now you spiritual? Shouts to Black [?] on gettin' me that critical advice that I needed Most of y'all too defensive to receive it Talkin' to myself, and it's got a lot to do With me being me, and you being you I got a lot of bread and I got a lot of hoes So I ain't worried if my heart got some holes She gettin' off work, so I wait 'til they close Just to pick her up and ask her how her day go We can anywhere, just don't take me home And the city's so big, never felt so alone With a love like this, girl we'll never go broke In a whip this clean, I ain't never need soap Know that this my path I keep seeing fourfolds Know that this my path I keep seeing fourfolds
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