| I’m sailing on a cloud, they trailing below
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| My shrink told me, «It's a feeling they’ll never know»
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| I pack up all my sins and I wear 'em to the show
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| And let 'em go, let 'em go, let 'em go, let 'em go
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| I’m sailing on a cloud, they trailing below
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| My shrink told me, «It's a feeling they’ll never know»
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| I pack up all my sins in every L that I blow
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| And let 'em go, let 'em go, let 'em go, let 'em go
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| In the land before time
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| A land before altar boys, synagogues, and shrines, man was in his prime
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| Look how far I go in time just to start a rhyme
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| The method is sublime, you get blessed with every line
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| I’m in touch with every shrine from Japan to Oaxaca
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| The melanated carbon-dated phantom of the chakras
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| Me and Puff, we was chilling in Miami
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| He said, «Nigga, fuck the underground, you need to win a Grammy
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| For your mama and your family, they need to see you shined up
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| You built a mighty high ladder, let me see you climb up
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| Nigga, what you scared of?
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| Terrorize these artificial rap niggas and spread love, pollinate they earbuds
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| Like you supposed to, spit it for the culture
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| Pay no attention to the critics and the vultures
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| They rather have a shot of Belvy just to spite you
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| They casting judgments 'cause they feel they got the right to
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| Fuck 'em, I let the dice roll like The Father did
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| I gotta shine, it’s in my blood, I’m a Harlem kid
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| I treat my babies right, treat my ladies ladylike
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| Hit them with a remix to make sure that they play me twice
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| I thought you said, «It's the return of the black kings
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| Luxurious homes, fur coats, and fat chains»
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| I’m sailing on a cloud, they trailing below
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| My shrink told me, «It's a feeling they’ll never know»
|
| I pack up all my sins and I wear 'em to the show
|
| And let 'em go, let 'em go, let 'em go, let 'em go
|
| I’m sailing on a cloud, they trailing below
|
| My shrink told me, «It's a feeling they’ll never know»
|
| I pack up all my sins in every L that I blow
|
| And let 'em go, let 'em go, let 'em go, let 'em go
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| In this manila envelope, the results of my insanity
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| Quack said I crossed the line 'tween real life and fantasy
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| Can it be the same one on covers with Warren Buffett?
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| Was ducking the undercovers, was warring with muh’fuckers
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| Went from warring to Warren, undercovers to covers
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| If you believe in that sort of luck, your screws need adjusting
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| In the world of no justice and black ladies on the back of buses
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| I’m the immaculate conception of rappers-slash-hustlers
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| My God, it’s so hard to conceive
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| But it all falls perfect, I’m like autumn is to trees
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| Aw, the doc interrupted
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| He scribbled a prescription for some Prozac, he said, «Take that for your
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| mustard
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| Boy, you must be off your rocker
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| If you think you’ll make it off the strip before they 'Pac ya
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| Nigga, you gotta be psychotic or mixing something potent with your vodka
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| It takes a lot to shock us but you being so prosperous is preposterous
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| How could this nappy-headed boy from out the projects
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| Be the apple of America’s obsession?
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| You totally disconnected with reality, don’t believe in dreams
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| Since when did black men become kings?»
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| You have no idea, yeah
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| The meaning to what I say
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| And you have no idea
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| Of how I got this way
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| Now hear my dreams
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| And by the time you wake
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| I’ll look down from the clouds
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| See I’m on my way
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| I’m sailing on a cloud, they trailing below
|
| My shrink told me, «It's a feeling they’ll never know»
|
| I pack up all my sins and I wear 'em to the show
|
| And let 'em go, let 'em go, let 'em go, let 'em go
|
| I’m sailing on a cloud, they trailing below
|
| My shrink told me, «It's a feeling they’ll never know»
|
| I pack up all my sins in every L that I blow
|
| And let 'em go, let 'em go, let 'em go, let 'em go |