[Intro: Heems]
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Rap rap, ahaha
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Rap rap, ahaha
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Hip-hop rap, ahaha
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Rap, yo
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[Heems]
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I'm a soldier, I'm a mastermind
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Flashing in the flashiest fashions that the masters buy
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Passersby passing me asking me if they can match this fly
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Maybe with a mastercard, ask this guy
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[Childish Gambino]
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I got a rush card, so I gotta stunt hard
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Rush Limballin' while I'm listenin' to tune yards
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Baby put your shoes on, we gon' turn the club out
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Dammit I broke my foot again, I might have to sub out
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Nostalgia, Ultra, you hang with vultures
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Nigga we eatin' good like we Oprah's roaches
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Buenos noches
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[Heems]
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Buenos dias
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Frida Khalo, papas fritas
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We eatin' good so they think we Free Masons
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I'm about my paper like WB Mason
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I'm about my paper like a Staples or an Office Max
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Never have to off a cat, makin' money off of rap
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He went from potential abortion stat
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To the cat that pay his mama's mortgage cash
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Lookin' fancy in a foreign flash
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Chammomele tea that we pour with splash
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[Childish Gambino]
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Yeah, remember Frutopia? That shit was delicious
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But Snapple came back around and put 'em out of business
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Um, that's a Snapple fact, used to eat Apple Jacks
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That's that Heems rhyme that I'm usin' for this battle rap
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Still got love for you, nothin' like them other dudes
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I am fly, you Hudson News
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Leave MCs so cut and bruised
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Comfortable like Huxtables, but fuck eating my vegetables
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[Heems]
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Yo, how come they don't sell batteries on the train no more?
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I guess it's cause the iPod came out
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I guess it's cause the iPod came out
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Yeah, I'm fresher than Samantha, strange man
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Aguala catch me up in Walhala, I'll holla
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I put Snapple in Vitamin Water for two bucks
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Pepsi came and bought it, for nothin' like what the fuck?
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I'm from National Wholesale Liquidators
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Rock bottom, Odd Lot and all the haters
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Does Benihana even sell wontons?
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Donald just put me on a bonton
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[Childish Gambino]
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Yes I did man, I goddamn did
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I'm five foot ten, I might just win
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I'm tryin' not to die like them
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Laid out in the street like Mr. Hooper, nigga
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I remember havin' to eat two scoops for dinner
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But it's all good, post Obama and post Ye
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Three Six got an Oscar, it's all okay
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Man, I beg your pardon, Trayvon Martin
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Atlanta is my home, but we treated like Martians
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I used to be a square like a Marlboro carton
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Like, niggas wasn't callin' me nigga like last week
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Only nigger in some nigger brown pants as we speak
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Yeah, Gambino say it twice, ATM machine, nawmean?
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-----------------
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Tell Me
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Heems |