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As a child I would dream about it |
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Sometimes it wake me from my sleep and I would think about it |
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Making music was all that could keep me off these streets |
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I don't know where I'd actually be without it, but think about it |
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I dedicated like twenty years to the goal |
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I still ain't made a name for myself and it's getting old |
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How many more words can I enter into this phone |
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Without running out of topics and dropping interesting quotes |
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I know people around the globe is wishing that they had a chance |
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To get they hands on that advance that I just passed up |
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Hit the road and have at least two-hundred people at every show |
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Smoking until I choke, that sounds mad fun |
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And being able to pay my bills is a plus |
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But money I be spending for promos is twice as much |
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Not to mention if you get in to the club with all these other rappers then you gotta have the nicest stuff |
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So fuck it, man, I'm drinking 'til I'm blacking out |
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They know me around the city for acting out |
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My dad visited for the weekend, he got a taste |
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And left a day early, hit me with a text, "what's that about?" |
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I told him, "it's okay, it's not a problem" |
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But everyone around me seem to think that I can't stop it |
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But yet they always wanna go out on my tab, they jobless |
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And they looking for a way to get it popping |
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So I got them, I start chilling with my old friends |
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They all married with good careers |
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Envious of what I'm doing |
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But only if they knew |
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I would trade them for a second and be outta here |
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But I'm too addicted to this music |
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And I got eight siblings that I never see |
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In a room I never leave |
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Stuck on my computer watching other niggas catch some speed |
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All they songs is extra weak, confusion steady stressing me |
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Running out of patience, let the journey get the best of me |
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Thought I had the recipe, so I followed every step |
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Left my girl and moved away, I know she happy I left |
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Lil bro is all alone, mama need a bigger check |
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All my niggas falling off, I'm still tryna be the best |
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Locked myself inside this booth, started making hella tracks |
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Cry myself to sleep at night, swear I been to hell and back |
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Loaded up that gun I bought, withdrew everything I had |
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Put it all in envelopes, had it sitting in my hand |
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Wrote my mama letter, and apologized for suicide |
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I been on a mission that they talk about but few will try |
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Had my finger on the trigger, would have left it all behind |
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And lyrics popped into my head, maybe music saved my life |
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Maybe music saved my life |
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Maybe music saved my life |
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Maybe music saved my life |
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Yeah, maybe music saved my life |
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