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AZ:
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Yeah . . . Word up
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CHORUS: [AZ]
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Tradin' places wanna piece of the pie
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Good guy, bad guy, we each gotta die
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It's all a game, some'll make the Hall Of Fame
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While others'll die in vain tryin' to front for a name
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Tradin' places wanna piece of the pie
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Good guy, bad guy, we each gotta die (Word Up)
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It's all a game, some'll make the Hall Of Fame (Yeah...How we livin'?)
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While others'll die in vain tryin' to front for a name
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AZ {Verse One}
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Dreams fulfilled, gave us more room to build
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Strong climb made more time for wounds to heal
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I can see the sun, must've been blessed to be the one
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Set free to run, same baby moms, new seed to come
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Breathin' lungs, through the sonogram see the thumb
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So regardless, male or female, love either one
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G's and tons branched out, coped the ranch house
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In ?Grand Martin? needed some space to plot my plans out
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Speak of life, still rock low, plus the sneaker type
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Be for ?kites? pushin' a stick make you breeze through life
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See through sites, gun shots, used to run spots
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Slung rocks, nearly got rich off of one block
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Saw the light, caught a case, couldn't afford to fight
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Lawyer white, had to cop out or face more than life
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Poison bites, my brain, flyin' high flames
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Tryin' to change, trapped between worlds kinda strange
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CHORUS: [AZ]
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Tradin' places wanna piece of the pie (Yeah)
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Good guy, bad guy, we each gotta die
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It's all a game, some'll make the Hall Of Fame (Yeah)
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While others'll die in vain tryin' to front for a name (That's how we
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come at 'em)
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Tradin' places wanna piece of the pie
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Good guy, bad guy, we each gotta die (Yeah)
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It's all a game, some'll make the Hall Of Fame (Uh Huh)
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While others'll die in vain tryin' to front for a name
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AZ {Verse Two}
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Yo it's either or, used to by girl ?Lee Rahol?
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G's galore, ?Cristen D or?, devils believe in war
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Need some more currency, streets observin' me
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Third defree, tryin' to see billions before they murder me
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Thoroughly thoughts react, let the ?Porsche? mack accross tracks
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Catch me in Haiti, ridin' horse back
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Seek religion, study life, tryin' to see the vision
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Weeks in prison'll help a wise man peep his livin'
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Reach decisions, analyze, scope the game, wit hopes to change
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Before the stress overdose the brain, most remain
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Shockwaves, I rock stage through the Tropic Haze
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Under Palm Trees, puffin' lye for days, liver ways
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Cold chillin', old villan, known for buildin'
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Sittin' back, controlin' millions
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What's right or wrong? Shorter days, nights is long
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Keep ya cipher strong, in case, it might be on
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CHORUS: [AZ]
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Tradin' places wanna piece of the pie
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Good guy, bad guy, we each gotta die
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It's all a game, some'll make the Hall Of Fame
|
While others'll die in vain tryin' to front for a name
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Tradin' places wanna piece of the pie (Yo)
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Good guy, bad guy, we each gotta die (Each gotta die)
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It's all a game, some'll make the Hall Of Fame
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While others'll die in vain tryin' to front for a name
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AZ {Verse Three}
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So what's the remedy, from bein' invaded by your enemy
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Envy me, had a cold heart since infancy
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Below freezin', used to flip for no reason
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Now beyond that, learned to relax, master slow breathin', blowin'
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hundreds
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Spendin' paper's so redundant
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I'm from it, most large niggas over and done wit
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No one to run wit, just a few from the Old School
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Ocean cruise, lain' back soakin' the blues
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Scopin' the views, never once, open the news
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It's all stress, placed on the broke and confused
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So know the game, some'll make the Hall Of Fame
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While others'll die in vain tryin' to front for a name
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CHORUS: [AZ]
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Tradin' places wanna piece of the pie
|
Good guy, bad guy, we each gotta die
|
It's all a game, some'll make the Hall Of Fame
|
While others'll die in vain tryin' to front for a name
|
Tradin' places wanna piece of the pie
|
Good guy, bad guy, we each gotta die
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It's all a game, some'll make the Hall Of Fame
|
While others'll die in vain tryin' to front for a name
|
|
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-----------------
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trading places
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az |