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"Okay Ace, one more question before we rap this one up is: |
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Considering how long you've been in the game, all the places you been |
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And all the songs that you've done and all the cats you've worked with, |
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Is there anything you'd do differently? |
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What I mean to say is, do you have any regrets?" |
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If I never recorded another song |
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If I was wrong, and nothin' I spitted was ever strong |
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If I never perform at another venue |
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If this genuine love doesn't continue |
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If none of my records was ever sold |
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If I fold, and I never see platinum or even gold |
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If no one ever again can recall, if I stalled |
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And start workin' part time at the mall |
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If theres no more shows for be to dabble in |
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No more travelin', leavin' the show in Maryland |
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If none of my songs that ever been never spin |
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In heavy rotation ever again |
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If I don't do a song to insight millions |
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Or get a video done by Hype Williams |
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If theres never a chance again to be seen |
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On the pages inside of another magazine |
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If the luxuries in life I can't ? or afford |
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If I never win the Billboard or the Source award |
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I wouldn't want ya pity or ya sympathy |
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Even if Marley never put me on The Symphony |
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But I gotta admit it I'm glad he did it |
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Its considered the first verse I ever spitted |
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I release I'm still apart of history |
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I learned the key to victory, its not a mystery |
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See I got alotta love for what I do in life |
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And after this I'm then I'ma find somethin' new in life |
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I guarantee ya it'll be somthin' that I really love |
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I give thanks for my life to God up above |
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That I'm blessed to have a job I enjoy doin' |
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And now as a man doin' what I was a boy doin' |
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The only difference is now I get to eat from it |
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I never though I would be known on the street from it |
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And if not one fan that shows gratitude |
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And if they see me they walk by with an attitude |
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It was still an enjoyable ride |
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Yeah, big up to Kane, Biz Mark and The Pharcyde |
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And of course to all of my past labelmates |
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Y'all keep on risin' like the cable rates |
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Ay yo, Premier and Guru, this goes out to you |
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Special Ed and Buckshot, this a shout to you |
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I don't know if its the end but yo it might be |
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Big up to Q-Tip, Alicia Heed and Spike Lee |
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And everybody in the game I ever worked with |
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And all the chicks up in the game I used to flirt with |
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But if I never get another piece of show coochie |
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Never see no Louie Vattone or no Gucci |
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No more suede and linen or designer denim |
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No more Jeeps with 1,000 watt systems in 'em |
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No more sittin' on chrome with those Parelli shoes |
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No more gettin' my name up in the daily news |
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No more Lexus, Coups, Beamers and Benzes |
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No more Cardiae frames with colored lenses |
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No more chains and bracelete, and no baguettes |
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But for what its worth yo, I got no regrets |