Fort Minor, Minor
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Fort Minor, Minor, Minor...
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Uh, spraypaint and ink pens
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I use to write in every color I think in
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To paint a picture with every rhyme that I speak in
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Yeah, the gallery is the beat then I... I... I... I...
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Yes, ladies and gentlemen
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We have a special guest for you this evening
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Ghost, you ready?
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Yo, I verbally paint pictures, I'm the hood's best storyteller
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This about a young boy dealing with the older fellas
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Promised him the lives you see on TV
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He ran packs across town like rhyme CD's
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And big chains, new clothes, Nikes and Reeboks
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Stacking too much loot to squeeze in a shoe box
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Saving, he promised his mom a crib in Atlanta
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And his pops got killed through debt, he was a dealer
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So he staged jazz, fox jump off the suit cases
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No more cross-town, now he's crossing them states and
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Seeing new faces, not knowing who to trust
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So when the door kicked open they scream "This is a bust"
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"Is it a set up?", it seems funny, a scuffle broke out
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He got hit, dropped the cases spitting blood out of his mouth
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He walked four blocks to die trying to survive
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And now all that's left is his mom screaming "God Why?"
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Uh, spraypaint and ink pens
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I use to write in every color I think in
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To paint a picture with every rhyme that I speak in
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Yeah, the gallery is the beat then I... I... I... I...
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Yeah, yeah, let me begin by saying "Shut the fuck up!"
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Let me begin by saying I don't think this man knew what he had in store
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He opened the door and found the bag under the floor
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Not a peep, always working a lot, get the flame, aim, pop
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Open the box and take off out the back of the pawn shop
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Scoping the lot, hoping the cops hadn't seen the plates on his car
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He felt like he been hustling so hard like a demon he pumped a cold heart
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Play it cool like Humphrey Bogart, put the rings on his chain attached by both parts
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He did the drop, one ring in a bag, envelope, all the money he had
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Left the money and the ring in a slow exhale
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Two weeks went by, got a box in the mail
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In the box was a bullet made of gold
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Melted down from the ring, recast with two rings and a band
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And he stared at it sitting in the palm of his hand
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And sat down next to a picture that sat on the nightstand
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It was his wife in the picture on his side
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With the ring on the finger on the week that she died
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As he looked in the reflection, at those eyes so red
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He put the bullet in a gun and put it right in his head like that
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Uh, spraypaint and ink pens
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I use to write in every color I think in
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To paint a picture with every rhyme that I speak in
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Yeah, the gallery is the beat then I... I... I... I...
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Uh, yeah, uh
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Fiasco!
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You know he didn't have enough power in his thrusters to muster Warp 5
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Plus if he pushed it, the fuel cells could rupture then they would die
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Then the galaxy would suffer but he knew he had to try
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But he couldn't risk it, put the cure in the escape pod and kissed it
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And told her goodbye, she started to cry, but he knew if he could distract 'em
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He could buy her some time and she could make it out alive
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Turn the suit around and got prepared for the stand off
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Space mind had blew one of the hands off
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Damaged laser cannons and he got the system jammed
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And he faced the whole fleet, blood seeping through his teeth
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The final saga in the seven planet wars
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Unsheathed the sword and then he charged forward
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His eyes flashed behind the cracked cockpit glass
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He let out a laugh and then all she heard was a blast like
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Uh, spraypaint and ink pens
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I use to write in every color I think in
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To paint a picture with every rhyme that I speak in
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Yeah, the gallery is the beat then I... I... I... I...
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Yeah, ladies and gentlemen
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This has been a Fort Minor production
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Ghostface! Fiasco!
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Uh, spraypaint and ink pens
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It's an expression coming out of a simple can of paint
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Look, it's the easiest way for the average kid to paint things using himself as the meaning of it
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You gonna get into that gallery real soon, man.
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Why? I'm not gonna be famous one day
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Why do you always say that?
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'cause it's true
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