[Hook]
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All these haters
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See you later
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All that I could do
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But you dont even feel me though
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I know you got that power
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That power
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Oh, oh oh
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[Verse 1]
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So CG but a nigga stay real
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Though I'm fly I'm ill I'm running shit
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3-points, field goal
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Rappers used to laugh like I tripped and fell
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Cause I don't stunt a gold cross like I Christian Bale
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Yeah, they starin' at me jealous cause I do shows bigger
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But your looks don't help, like an old gold digger
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Uncool, but lyrically I'm a stone cold killer
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So it's 400 blows to these Truffaut niggas
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Yeah, now that's the line of the century
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Niggas missed it, too busy
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They lyin' 'bout penitentiary
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Man, you ain't been there
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Nigga you been scared
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And I'm still living single like Synclaire
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Lovin' white dudes who call me white and then try to hate
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When I wasn't white enough to use your pool when I was 8
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Stone Mountain you raised me well
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I'm stared at by Confederates but hard as hell
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Tight jeans penny loafers, but I still drink a Bodine
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Staying on my me shit, but hated on by both sides
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I'm just a kid who blowing up with my father's name
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And every black "you're not black enough"
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Is a white "you're all the same"
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DOOM Food like Rapp Snitch Knishes
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Cuz its oreos, twinkies, coconuts, delicious
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How many gold plaques you want inside your dining room?
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I said I want a full house
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They said, "You got it dude!"
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[Hook]
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[Verse 2]
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Holla, holla, holla, holla at yo boy
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Like yo dad when he's pissed off
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Got flow, I could make a cripple crip walk
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Niggas' breath stank, all they do is shit talk
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People want a real man, I made 'em wait this long
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Maybe if he bombs, he'll quit and keep actin'
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And save paper like your aunt does with McDonald napkins
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How'd it happen? Honesty did it
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See all of my competition at the bodies exhibit
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Yeah I bodied the limits and I get at them fakers
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Motherfuck if you hate it, cremated them haters
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So, my studio be a funeral
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Yeah, this is our year, oh you didn't know?
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Uh, yeah I'm killin' you, step inside the lion's den
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Man I'm hov if the 'O' was an 'I' instead
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On stage with my family in front of me
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I am what I am: everything I wanna be
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[Hook]
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[Outro]
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This is on a bus back from camp. I'm thirteen and so are you. Before I left for camp I imagined it would be me and three or four other dudes I hadn't met yet, running around all summer, getting into trouble. It turned out it would be me and just one girl. That's you. And we're still at camp as long as we're on the bus and not at the pickup point where our parents would be waiting for us. We're still wearing our orange camp t-shirts. We still smell like pineneedles. I like you and you like me and I more-than-like you, but I don't know if you do or don't more-than-like me. You've never said, so I haven't been saying anything all summer, content to enjoy the small miracle of a girl choosing to talk to me and choosing to do so again the next day and so on. A girl who's smart and funny and who, if I say something dumb for a laugh, is willing to say something two or three times as dumb to make me laugh, but who also gets weird and wise sometimes in a way I could never be. A girl who reads books that no one's assigned to her, whose curly brown hair has a line running through it from where she put a tie to hold it up while it was still wet
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Back in the real world we don't go to the same school, and unless one of our families moves to a dramatically different neighborhood, we won't go to the same high school. So, this is kind of it for us. Unless I say something. And it might especially be it for us if I actually do say something. The sun's gone down and the bus is quiet. A lot of kids are asleep. We're talking in whispers about a tree we saw at a rest stop that looks like a kid we know. And then I'm like, a¢æ©«Can I tell you something?a¢æ? And all of a sudden I'm telling you. And I keep telling you and it all comes out of me and it keeps coming and your face is there and gone and there and gone as we pass underneath the orange lamps that line the sides of the highway. And there's no express |