| stole my what’s poppin' like yesterday, whatchu' want?
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| I love the winter
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| That’s when the quitters deep sleep
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| From to dinner
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| You lookin' like a number 5 with two apple pies
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| I can tell your rap a lie when you bet your ice
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| If I had to trap or die I’d be in the grave nah I’m Makaveli won’t come
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| backareli to my wife
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| Custom-made hypno scroll on a candy plane
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| All you gotta do is nod your head in the, ,
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| Don’t get changed
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| Don’t get changed, you, you
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| Don’t get changed
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| Don’t get changed, you, you
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| Yeah, I said quit telling fibs in your raps and your adlibs
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| My nigga that’s why I fucked yo' bitch in my adlibs
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| Runnin' through the woes with my six in my adlibs
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| Drop a million like it ain’t shit in my adlibs (yup)
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| In my adlibs (no cut), in my adlibs
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| Skip like a nigga don’t you wish you could have this?
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| I used to cop shiny suits with Diddy
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| Ladies squeezing out the sun roof like spaghetti
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| They play it all tight
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| Play like you get dough long enough to catch placebo hype
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| You would think I’m in the hood all Deebo type
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| Boy I’m just some I don’t lead that life
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| Face down till them greenbacks is up
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| Skate town before my hood passed it’s touch
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| Don’t get changed
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| Don’t get changed, you, you
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| I got 35 brothers
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| Swear that I’m a certified killer
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| Low-key I don’t fuck with niggas
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| Don’t get changed
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| Don’t get changed you, you
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| Keys and slags and drama and cars and weed
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| Three cheers for the last poet
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| You got grass blowin'
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| I clash a glass till we splash Moët during a toaster meet
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| Most agree I supposed to be coast to coast grippin' the Ghost or Testarossa keys
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| And as for the track, I can either be a breath of fresh air or a asthma attack
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| See I don’t have to use my best bars to rip out a chest and leave flesh scars
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| to all your producers and guest stars
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| Uh-uh, these ain’t test cars
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| Rippin' round your neck of the woods, smoother than dress scarfs
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| With the 4−4 poem, if I picture you picturin' me blowin' up is that a photobomb?
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| Y’all too nosy not to be inhaling kilos
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| And don’t request these foul lines if you ain’t nailin' free throws
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| What part of the game is that?
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| Nameless act, I make you famous with the ignoramus or a shameless brat
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| Don’t get changed
|
| Don’t get changed, you, you
|
| Don’t get changed
|
| Don’t get changed, you, you
|
| Don’t get changed
|
| Don’t get changed, you, you
|
| Don’t get changed
|
| Don’t get changed, you, you |