| It sounds like we back to the part where you get reminded,
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| Where catching everything that you thought will make you rewind it,
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| Like everything you knew that you caught, you still behind it,
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| So everything you get is in parts, like it’s consignment,
|
| Part of it sounds more like sitting under the floor might,
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| Be enough to sit you above what all the applause like,
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| And all of the applause is singing in uniform right?,
|
| And then you take note what these harmonies can harm like
|
| It sounds like smoke outta the scope how the grey on,
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| And then the smoke clears and everybody you play gone,
|
| And may yall, continue to pray on who you root on,
|
| Like stay on and make a seance out of a nuance,
|
| And say y’all get in the way of what I been due on,
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| My catalog is like Avon meets brother Mouzone,
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| Threw y’all a 3 peat and we bout to part 4 it,
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| You either part for it or parkour it
|
| This what it sound like,
|
| When you give the sound light,
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| And everything above it wind up under the ground like,
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| If everything above it is the reason it sound right,
|
| Then it was cut from it but it’s cut out around like… bet it that…
|
| It sounds like raising a .45 and making the floor rise
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| All while explaining apartheid,
|
| All while changing a car ride to aiming at off sides
|
| All while playing the Pharcyde, and pray if the car dies,
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| That you was low enough to get lost by
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| Whoever had a set on your door side,
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| Closer than a rear view, low as it appears to,
|
| Where they grow weight and throw weight like Amir do,
|
| And at The Roots of it all there be more to adhere to,
|
| Say to do what you do with your arms if you can bear to,
|
| It sounds like a fist in the air meets a brick in the air
|
| Meets baguettes meets the vision impaired,
|
| Or it sounds like visions in pairs
|
| And depending on how you pronounce both is what’ll get to appear,
|
| It sounds like rug money that turn into plug money
|
| That turn into overturning the plug’s money, this what it sound like
|
| This what it sound like,
|
| When you give the sound light,
|
| And everything above it wind up under the ground like,
|
| If everything above it is the reason it sound right,
|
| Then it was cut from it but it’s cut out around like… bet it that…
|
| And bet it that it sounds like a run that ain’t nobody ever ran on,
|
| Ship it how I whip it, no dance on, you get your Stan on
|
| For whoever they got you beside,
|
| Until your G drop out when it be time to align,
|
| Line up like twelve when they be Tryna collide,
|
| They add you on by Tryna divide, another time,
|
| Know me, know I put the sublime in the subliminal,
|
| Your fanbase wanna bid something, mine done did a few,
|
| And when your fave is spitting that shit and you seem surprised,
|
| I’m Eric betting with Kyle, I’m feeding 'em from behind,
|
| Word to Kenny, all this works, who working with me?,
|
| ‘cause it was either work out a verse or work a semi,
|
| Box out like Hakeem, 30/20,
|
| Threw the pump fake and they’re thinking I work for semi,
|
| 'lotta lines, I’ll leave you the time to go and break those,
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| Meanwhile I’m ducking from plain clothes
|
| 'cause this what it sounds like…
|
| When you give the sound light,
|
| And everything above it wind up under the ground like,
|
| If everything above it is the reason it sound right,
|
| Then it was cut from it but it’s cut out around like… bet it that… |