Key: Db major•
Intro 1
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Verse 1
Fuck my ladies, y 'all can ditch
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be gone I'm thrown in the towel, want me to read on?
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No?
Fuck it
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Rap critics have a hard time
Pull your card,
I'm just the type to make them gripe
shippy up and down like see -saws
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I never seen so many flies in people before
Read them on a gauge
like it's a stage
that ain't a crossroads
But roads crisscross like
I enter strange moments
Enter thighs less often
Must be my
Scorpio vibe that throws them off
I'm scary, I don't get it
But there's nothing I can edit
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I got my work cut out for me
There's nothing I can edit
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I got my work cut out for me
This is what I was meant to be
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There's nothing I can edit
I'm still a workhorse,
CP the workforce
Perk yours, we'll transact,
TWA to
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Amtrak
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I get around tap jams,
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trap sand in the album bottle
It's on pause,
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I don't wanna get older now
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A montage of strange rap mu sic
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Mahavishna
Street beats like
Harry
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Krishna
Squish the good times out the stack
And
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I get grips like a grapplin' bitch on trips
Never let em see you, not be you
Aim sharp for the temple
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I change
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You
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TunerE A D G B E
ChordsDb Gbm Fm Gb Bbm
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