[Verse 1:]
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I'm a 80's baby
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"Mercedes" made me
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Crack money and "Moet" made me crazy
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Strapped hungry with' no vest they named me "AZ"
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Amongst the militant, too insane to raise me
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Was "Swayze"
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Some old school pimps embraced me
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And built real between daffodils and daisies amazed me
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The cars changed, switched attire
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Broads came, partied like "Richard Pryor"
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[?] frames, no lens to protect my pupils
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Thou' their hearts changed, love amongst my men was neutral
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Beau'ful
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We puffed, there was dough to spread
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With' enough bread to [?]
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I fled
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Instead I had a mouth to feed
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19 my queen claimed she handled my seed
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Do the right thing is wise, that's what "Spike Lee" said
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So disguised as a mic fiend, my ties was dead
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[Chorus:]
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The game don't stop
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'Til the player gets knocked
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Or the shit flip-flop
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And you sittin' on top
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[Verse 2:]
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My kid here, career in the bloom
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I don't live there no more, I done moved to the moon
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Whips is like spaceships that zoom on fumes
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Flooded bracelets they lit like an eclipse in june
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No cartoon
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I symbolize the coldest itself
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Once told he who hold don't expose his weatlh
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But what else
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When one life's faced with' crisis
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And you see hate replace the holy faith of the righteous
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I just
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Handcuffed and jailed myself
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Jammed up and bailed myself
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With' no help
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Made my own V.I.s and mailed myself
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It's all B.I. I had to tell myself
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I'm on lock
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The game don't stop
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'Til the player gets knocked
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Or the shit flip-flop
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And you sittin' on top
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Flashin' my wrist watch
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Like go get cops
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Bitch I'm legit got rich off Hip Hop
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[Chorus]
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[Verse 3:]
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I'm one man but so many monsters in me
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With' one gram had plans on conquering cities
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So on one hand could've signed and launched with' "Diddy"
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But I ran with my other man, the response was pretty
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A few grams, a few nigga's fiances with' me
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New sedans, was feelin' like "Fonzworth Bentley"
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Who the man? My homies at the concerts with' me
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I was back on my deen
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Then the jacket with' the jeans
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Then the hatin' and slackin' with' the team
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Now I know what it means
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Things ain't always what it seems
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It's the ones that smoke blunts with' cha
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Rap with' cha
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But really want your black ass out the picture
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Bet the God won't slip
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I'm indie with' the semi on the "Remy" loaded talents in the clips
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Rubber grip
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Got the silence on the tip
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So call it what you want I'm on my New York shit!
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[Chorus]
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-----------------
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The Game Don't Stop
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AZ |