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Last Of A Dope Era Dying
All that shit together don't equal love to the
work I'm supplying What you selling we ain't buying You niggas got it watered down the
most I
could see your ending already And the
timing is close We done came too far to have a
setback That bullshit ain't flying You done fell victim to all the
lying You're on your way out and you know it, LOADED! Last of a
dope era dying Uh, I
asked God to bless me with the
gift and he spoiled me Kicking my shit for years now, easy as time recorded me My style's irate, a
quarter disorderly Bars that'll get you right on your feet Quarter to quarter fee You settle for crumbs not where you ought to be Guarantee, your lifetime slaughtery in my warranty, uh Chronicles of the
last legends Disrespect the
veteran, get you a
sad exit In the
book of violations they'll be a
fast sentence Louie rubber bands to compliment my bags preference Soldier platinum, army tag necklace I
love the
game, but it got corny ass stretchers, uh Need the
perfectionist appraise Crowd around a
walking ticket, every breakfast is filet's Will they spill and out my ears still, rest when I
hit the
grave Further I
go there's memories connecting us to the
pain All that shit together don't equal love to the
work I'm supplying What you selling we ain't buying You niggas got it watered down the
most I
could see your ending already And the
timing is close We done came too far to have a
setback That bullshit ain't flying You done fell victim to all the
lying You're on your way out and you know it, LOADED! Last of a
dope era dying Uh, since my first mixtape I've cooked dime and the
regular With no features, I
sell myself like Conor McGregor They ain't yourself they cool you out here Kinda an extra Roll an L
up in the
heat of the
battle, chronic finesser Sick to my stomach your CD's are ramen and ketchup Put me next up to them boys in freebie, find me a
heckler South Jamaica taker, home of the
grimiest pressure Hold the
title, mind professor Built shiniest as ever Get your yeses from the
weakest of man cheating your fans Chin flips and middle fingers Through lips speak to the
hands Money signature, control perimeter, feet in the
grand Always sinister the
global finisher, week in Japan There ain't shit about survival steady Can't be rhyming ready Instinct made my timing daily Frequent weapons collected who's bombs held me Your working hard at your facade, hardly at the
bank Partying's your job, sorry's in your blogs All that shit together don't equal love to the
work I'm supplying What you selling we ain't buying You niggas got it watered down the
most I
could see your ending already And the
timing is close We done came too far to have a
setback That bullshit ain't flying You done fell victim to all the
lying You're on your way out and you know it, LOADED! Last of a
dope era dying
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