| Two pills and a Mac-11, red, blue, you choose
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| Tryna spit a few flows to get my money up
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| Look I’m 20 years old and I ain’t done enough
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| And 'til the sun set, roll another blunt for my real nigga Kembe
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| I’m not only the leader but I follow the village
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| I swear them niggas is killing it in Chicago
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| Now put the gun down, waiting to put the world on 'em
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| I get tired of the problems and depression
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| The bitches and the bitching, come and get your girl, homie
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| Shallow dreams and broken hearts, Black Benz’s
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| They’re tryna make, material wishes and spiritual blisses
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| They stay focused on inferior pictures, you got your mothafuckin' hands out
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| I hid so, so far away, so far away
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| But I still, I still hear the gun sounds
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| Bang, bang-bang, bang-bang
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| Bang, bang-bang, bang-bang
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| Two kills from a Mac-11, red and blue, you lose
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| A nigga need bail so get your money out
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| I’m twenty years old and I ain’t done enough
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| Lord, I swear I got the answers for my people
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| And bullets bring the reaper
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| I heard my first lie in a church from a preacher
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| I sank low cause that’s where they want to keep us
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| Just give me love, give me sex, give me reefer
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| And after school getting high with the teachers
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| I tried to promise my momma I’d make it honest
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| Say what’s on your heart I promise they call it conscience
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| And conscious don’t make no dollars, no dollars unless you Common
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| Now get your mothafuckin' hands out
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| I hid so, so far away, so far away
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| But I still, I still hear the gun sounds
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| Bang, bang-bang, bang-bang
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| Bang, bang-bang, bang-bang
|
| I hid so, so far away, so far away
|
| But I still, I still hear the gun sounds
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| Bang, bang-bang, bang-bang
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| Bang, bang-bang, bang-bang |