(Verse)
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I¡¯m on a heavy guap search, fox furs, lobster
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Ambitions of a mobster inspired by a pop verse
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Thoughts like clockwork orange in the dark search
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Sharp nerves to my brain and boy, am I a lot worse.
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Drugs, they apparently want us to stop,
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Carping out part, what the therapist thought it.
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But it¡¯s cool, cause the school and the parents support him,
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So we took a silver spoon and cook some heroine on ¡®em.
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Sky¡¯s the limit, but that¡¯s life after death,
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To then we¡¯re just some blind mice in the labyrinth.
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They wonder what¡¯s the smell, that¡¯s the Cali¡¯ stench,
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Cause I be twisting Ls like the Ellen lounge.
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I don¡¯t really give a fuck now,
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I roll when down been off now,
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Yo, I¡¯m on the ground, I¡¯m thinking background
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Cause I like one soon as I touch down
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My room throwing up with kush clouds,
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I¡¯m so wasteful, can¡¯t get enough pounds,
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Smoking one off uptown in the bus round
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And I¡¯m zooded, still I continue to roll it
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Less connection with the world, more connection with the soul.
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More direction, leading the conception of the poem,
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Such perfection, settle for no less that I¡¯m owed
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Sorry, karma, I mean, I¡¯m sorry, mama,
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I mean, I¡¯m sorry father, almighty, don¡¯t bother
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I got an Old Bible in my living room, parler I address it
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As soon that shawty say that she don¡¯t wanna swallow.
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I mean
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Puffing on the shorm stick, watching how the stone flick,
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Keep the chronic burning but burning just like a furnace.
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Mama said I¡¯m worthless cause I purchase too much angel dust
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I don¡¯t give a fuck, cause all I wanna do is take a puff.
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Save enough for later alligator, you know imma feed
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If I get dehydrated I¡¯ll stuck it and imma mean
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Up upon the scene with my team before my time is up
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It¡¯s a guarantee that Eddie B will Amy Winehouse
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Don¡¯t raise your eyebrows, you know I¡¯m a basket case,
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If I don¡¯t get a quick fix imma smash your face.
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Moving out a faster phase, you rappers can¡¯t keep up with me,
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I¡¯m sniffing something white while you be sipping on a bubba leaf.
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Buzzing like a bumble-bee, I¡¯m higher, so you¡¯re under me
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The brain is full with fuckery, that lame on living comfortably.
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It¡¯s utterly ridiculous, but imma stay articulate,
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Meticulous, playing with your bitch little clitoris.
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How ill is this, everything I touch turns to extasy,
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Dope roll speed is the motherfucking recipe.
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The rest MC, Eddie B will take you to the maximum,
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And if they¡¯ve got a problem imma have to shove it acinoum.
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Asking them why you starting drama with a veteran
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I wrote he¡¯s been intelligent, grow up and take your medicine.
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Your marijuana¡¯s Mexican, I rather pop some masculine.
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-----------------
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Sunday
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Harry Fraud |