Get off of my feet, and then i got these punks from my old street
My father's dead, well i don't know, we'll never fucking meet
I keep my money neat
Now we all in the street
After lebron, i'm what's next
It’s starting to make sense
No it ain't easy
Starting blowing breezy
I'm starting to seem fine,
At the same damn time
That i'm starting to lose it
You, you, you have to pay for that
And when the smoke clears don’t you dare ask who could
Taking it back to to the same street from my childhood
Im starting to seem okay,
So close i could give flip a play
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