| I got good intentions, believe me
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| The coldest nigga, anemic
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| Who put this shit together?
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| That’d be me, myself and I bitch
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| The God, call me Osiris
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| The sickest like a virus
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| The golden touch, the Midas
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| We movin' in forward direction, leavin' that bullshit behind us
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| Shall I adjust the blinders?
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| Them statements at the end of the month a constant reminder
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| Tell 'em I been on the incline, climbin' up the ladder
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| I been hopping out the Benz while pockets gettin' fatter
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| It ain’t like it even matters, I’m duckin', dodgin' disasters
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| Jumpin' out the Devils lasso, I’m bobbin', weavin' the hassles
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| If you motherfuckers trip, then I trip, now we trippin'
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| I’m rollin' up the zip, take a hit, nigga listen
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| Where’s your foresight, where’s your vision, where’s your fuckin' intuition?
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| Why your key in the ignition but you still here sittin'?
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| Niggas will be in park and then complain about the traffic
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| Unable to make a start, you asking me that shit is tragic, eh
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| But that’s the reaper, uh
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| Yeah that’s the reaper, uh
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| The Devil callin', why he hit me on my beeper, yeah
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| But that’s the evils, uh
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| Yeah that’s the evils, uh
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| My intuition kickin' in so I can see you, yeah
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| Now that’s the reefer, yeah
|
| Said that’s the reefer, uh
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| My paranoia at an all time high (You high?)
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| I think I see something, yeah
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| I think I see something, yeah
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| Close the door, shut the motherfuckin' blinds
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| My mama say I’m on that shit, I need to quit
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| God as my wit', killin' my kidneys
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| Matter of minutes, matter of fact, I’m goin' the distance
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| I might pass out, before I tap out
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| I talked to God, he said go hard, my nigga max out
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| My paranoia tenfold, I’m really on my shit though
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| I never break or bend though, still in the field we ten toes
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| Poppin' 'em like a zit or mentos, we low like limbos
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| Make you knuck if you buck so you should watch out for the elbow
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| We raisin' hell and facin' L’s, I french inhale, embrace the smell and make 'em
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| kneel
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| Habitual our usage, some might say this shit is overkill
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| We on the ground, we still in line, it’s like we rode the rails
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| We mowed the lawn to keep it low, watch out for snakes and snails
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| My phone tapped like The Firm but I call it co-intel
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| These niggas stab you in the back and then they wish you well
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| That’s to your face and when you leave, you know they wish you fail
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| To compensate with the hate, I put something in the air
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| But that’s the reaper, uh
|
| Yeah that’s the reaper, uh
|
| The Devil callin', why he hit me on my beeper, yeah
|
| But that’s the evils, uh
|
| Yeah that’s the evils, uh
|
| My intuition kickin' in so I can see you, yeah
|
| Now that’s the reefer, yeah
|
| Said that’s the reefer, uh
|
| My paranoia at an all time high (You high?)
|
| I think I see something, yeah
|
| I think I see something, yeah
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| Close the door, shut the motherfuckin' blinds |