| Yo, I’m gonna ride this beat
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| Straight to beat street
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| Let’s do it
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| Crumbs
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| Crumbs
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| Crumbs
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| Friends: how many of us watched it?
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| Epic Beard Men was on our Joey and Ross shit
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| Soon as the needle dropped the whole party said ‘Aw, shit'
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| And turned the kitchen to a mosh pit
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| The hock & spit will kill a hostage to send a message!
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| Raw shit! |
| You get rewarded for your investment!
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| Law giver! |
| Yeah the songs written with protection!
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| Hard hitting
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| Been giving kids they lessons in independence
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| The twin professors wrecking your shop!
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| We look alike
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| We get it a lot
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| He’s sort of a Kirk
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| He’s more of a spock
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| There is no good cop
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| The city’s on lock
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| No ease up
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| No chill (chill)
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| No mood stabilizer no sleeping pill (ill)
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| Nah no white rappers with a grill looking awkward also
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| Sit em next to Kendall Jenner with them awesome cornrows
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| Don’t watch award shows
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| Strictly writin' raps with the door closed
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| Using the high hats to send a message in Morse Code…
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| Dag
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| There’s crumbs in every bag!
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| Crumbs
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| Crumbs
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| Crumbs
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| There’s crumbs in every bag
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| The greedy want the crumbs too living so comfortably numb
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| The seeds and the stems, comfortably dumb
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| Typing with no opposable thumbs
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| Their brains not even grown up enough to process the wordplay
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| Get high, have fun, how dare they
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| Beware my, terrifying, skill display
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| Fill the frame from margin to margin
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| With a novel antic witty writing from left to right with a quill in my grip
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| The puppy’s head tilt
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| What is this I see?
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| It’s the artifact
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| Nowadays they be try hard to get stared at when all we had to was just be in
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| the room to get glared at
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| With that test no longer existing
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| These kids they go fishing, their soul is the bait
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| The poetry’s missing, I feel like I’m late
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| But the party never invited me, so I’m great
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| Status quo but that is broke forever braids
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| But the machine is broken, so we climb the cage
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| Won’t let sour milk, define my age
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| I like to mumble and freestyle and get mega paid
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| But I respect the process and not the game
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| I medusa play
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| Want my cake and eat it too
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| It takes two to tang-OH man you need a shrink
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| Crumbs
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| Crumbs
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| There’s crumbs in every bag
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| There’s giants in our midst with walnuts for brains
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| On some futuristic Kama Sutra shit
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| We’re all fucked the same
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| I got too much to lose and not much to gain
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| But on a dare I’ll say poo to your career, frame by frame
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| See, this is where his walnut got cracked for talkin' smack
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| Got splattered all on his wifey’s lap and pillbox hat
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| The kid pops back
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| But we’re from (chill)
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| There’s a sniper in the hills pickin' off crumbs with spearguns
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| I like guns more than control but I like gun control
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| I don’t need a background check to grab your neck and pluck your soul (Behold!)
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| This ghostly figure whose host was quicker to roast a kid instead of showing
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| support like post a sticker
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| (The up-and-comer came to get down!)
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| They wouldn’t let ‘im shine
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| They threw shade on a sage, and now?
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| There’s a dumpster fire fueled by umps at a empire
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| They expected us to use our last breath to pump their tires
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| Shoulda checked the pressure gauge (You woulda been amazed!)
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| On the seventh day? |
| (You rested)
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| I was center stage (Etta James!)
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| They signed my yearbook like, ‘Never change'
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| Bitch, if I ain’t different the next time you see me set me ablaze
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| So I can go out smoking… and firing
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| Fuse my ashes into the nastiest and bloodiest of diamonds
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| Proposed to my ex (Tell her sorry for the ghosting)
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| I was a writer on the firestorm (and that wasn’t my final form!)
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| Right or wrong, if you succumb to every fad you should get dragged
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| There’s crumbs in every bag
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| Crumbs
|
| There’s crumbs in every bag
|
| Crumbs
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| There’s crumbs in every bag
|
| There’s crumbs in every bag
|
| There’s crumbs in every bag
|
| There’s crumbs in every bag
|
| Crumbs
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| There’s crumbs in every bag |