| I been around the world once, had your fiancee twice
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| I ain’t nuthin' nice, but every lifestyle got a price
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| Kiss my momma on the cheek 'cause her love was deep
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| Like Keith Sweat, but the deeper the streets get
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| The deeper the beef get
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| Enough Fatal Attraction to boil your pet
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| 'Cause everybody wanna have it lavish
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| Now, courvoisier is my dossier overnight, inside
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| I write like six hundred thousand kilobytes
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| Yes I’m on one, European cars, Cuban cigars, rap stars
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| Glass ceilings to the inevitable cap peeling for sexual healing
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| I lack feeling, wrote it for black women like Terry McMillan
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| Save a prayer for me, I was told no guts no glory
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| I shed a tear once in a while, too
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| But a soldier gots to do what he gots to do
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| I want stock in Fox, coughin' with Rupert Murdoch, I thought you knew
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| It is what it is
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| Nowadays, that’s the way it is
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| Why do we do what we do when we do what we must, that’s
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| How it is, and how it is is kinda fucked up
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| It’s sad to say, but things just ain’t the same no more
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| Why do we do what we do when we do what we lust, it is
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| What it is, and how it is is kinda fucked up
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| If the pussy is free, then talk is cheap
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| Then again, it’s probably cheaper to keep her
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| Back in the days, all a nigga needed was suede pumas and a beeper
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| Now they all expecting condos, briquettes and pet cheetahs
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| See ya when I see ya
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| And by then I know the motives, she bogus
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| I noticed her jocking the rims on the Lotus
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| I learned early to trust God when moms was like
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| You need to swoosh your ass and get a job
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| My occupation be operation, more horsepower than Daytona
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| 'Cause I’m a Rider, like Winona
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| Being nice is a vice, the gift is naturally mine
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| That’s like +Grand Verbalizer+ not knowing the time
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| See, my partners commit crimes serving federal bids
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| Confined to a six by nine regrettin' the wrong shit he did
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| I swear, wishin' we was still little kids
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| But we grown men now homey, it is what it is
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| Nowadays, that’s the way it is
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| Why do we do what we do when we do what we must, that’s
 | 
| How it is, and how it is is kinda fucked up
 | 
| It’s sad to say, but things just ain’t the same no more
 | 
| Why do we do what we do when we do what we lust, it is
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| What it is, and how it is is kinda fucked up
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| Hip Hop ain’t even fun
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| In these strange days, rappers is gettin' done
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| Like Jericho won
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| Within two months, two major artists got slumped
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| I whispered God rest the dead and let the Blaupunkt pump
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| Kept a part and a fade since about eleventh grade
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| Rock the Donna Karan shades
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| 'Cause I don’t like to dream about gettin' paid
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| But I’m afraid I do
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| Trying to organize a team, willing to empty magazines
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| This supreme fiends for CREAM
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| We need Jes, -us like Mary Magdalene and Born Again Christians
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| Ain’t a politician 'cause I already got your vote
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| True, I want your money but I ain’t a preacher no
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| I don’t even love the dough
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| But if you don’t work you don’t eat
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| So I want all I can get before I go
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| I love what money can get me
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| It’s elementary evidently, the custom convertible Bentley tempt me
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| It is what it is
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| Nowadays, that’s the way it is
 | 
| Why do we do what we do when we do what we must, that’s
 | 
| How it is, and how it is is kinda fucked up
 | 
| It’s sad to say, but things just ain’t the same no more
 | 
| Why do we do what we do when we do what we lust, it is
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| What it is, and how it is is kinda fucked up
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| There are things that we can change
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| Some things remain the same
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| That’s just the way it is
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| Way it goes, yeah
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| There are things that we can change
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| But most things gon' stay the same
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| It’s the way it is
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| You better believe it, ooh yeah |