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[Intro:] |
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Oh you wrong, you gots to get right with yourself |
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Sinner please, you could never get with the god |
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Oh you wrong, you gots to get right with yourself |
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Sinner please, you could never get with the god |
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[Verse 1:] |
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Don't wanna fake that smile, don't wanna have that talk |
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Don't wanna make that child or let the suspect walk |
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Don't wanna take it to trial or settle out of court |
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Just wanna shoot down the stork |
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Don't want a long disclaimer as a preference to your short story |
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Don't wanna sum up in one sentence why your sort bores me |
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In fact, one more word out of you and the girl gets it |
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You're so bossy in a world that has no work ethic |
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So let's shake to that, don't wanna give you dap |
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Or figure out whatever hand dance you're bringing back |
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For I am not a tween, don't wanna talk with memes |
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Or let the internet infiltrate all my dreams |
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So what do I want? Want now? |
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To exercise my right to be hostile and drop trou |
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Hey, you, get off that cloud |
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You don't know what that technology allows |
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I don't wanna weigh it out, don't wanna be more patient |
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Don't want a bank account charging me for paper statements |
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Don't want no ancient astrology stopping me |
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From boarding the spaceship once it gets to our colony cause |
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[Hook:] |
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All I ever wanted was space |
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Cause all I ever wanted was space |
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Cause all I ever wanted was space |
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Cause all I ever wanted was the place she feared most |
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[Verse 2:] |
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I could mock a killingbird without dropping a single word |
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I'd flip the middle finger till he's stoughing in the herb |
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My catapult becomes a death wing |
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To a red phone in the west wing, y'all are soon to fall |
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For the oldest-known joke in the phone book (what the fuck's the phone book?) |
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That's like a black book for fat folks who don't cook |
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Pick-up or delivery? Sick of this chivalry |
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Just tell me what you're willing to give to me and we go from there |
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Well hello there, dressed to impress but going nowhere? |
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Well let's go there |
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Grown man flirting like it hurts him that he has to bother |
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Is that your baby-baby bubba, does he have a father? |
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Don't be insulted, that was off the top freestyle |
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Still battle rappers for the custody like Cleese child |
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These styles are fatherless, motherless, marvelous |
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Adopted by every hip hop George Papadopoulos |