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Turn Pike
03:00
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We gonna get it…
I’m running laps around this bih…
C’mon, man – look… yo…
On another plane, another train, I’m trying to get it
Wearing my brother’s name, conductor check my ticket
A lot of them spit it, but don’t get this specific
Pre-determined – writing’s on the wall like hieroglyphics
Wrong era, should have been in cyphers at can jams
Still can’t leave the city and be another transplant
Stressed – doc talking ‘bout a cornea transplant
No healthcare… that’s a lot of units on Bandcamp
Me and twin was on this shit like a decade ago
Second time around, the type of heart no x-ray could show
X-rated flow, they waiting on Leché to blow
I’m still trying to figure out what’s the best way to go
It’s Blanco – young' sweep the street up 'til the road glistening
Dawg, I flow like I know that Hov’s listening
I walk past the oven and hear the stove flickering
The glow different, they soul missing, it’s so sickening
They say ‘what happened to a dream differed?’
It turns into a nightmare – dawg, I seem disturbed
Anything to make sure them feelings don’t re-emerge
Couldn’t write a verse, I had to fight them demons first
Brilly and Dust pulled me out of it,
Can’t believe for a second I ever doubted this
Thought my ceiling was low like ‘Being John Malkovich’
‘Full Metal Jacket’ to ‘Fullmetal’ alchemy
Seen it from a bird’s eye, never a third eye
That’s word to Vinnie, every pick-up was “Curbside”
Putting it all in one pot, like a stir fry
This city’s mine – every turn off every turn pike
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John Candy
02:45
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Blue Faces
02:00
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Motocross
02:30
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Wolf Side, Load B Gang, look…
Camo fatigues, smell like dog water and ‘Port smoke
Hopping off the porch for Lo Sport and more dough
At a fork in the road, the flow will be immortal
Young bol got arms sticking out the torso like Goro
My wolves eat every morsel, they all resourceful
See the dots and then a dash, it’s like Morse code
Heavy up the course load, bitch bored, sipping Bordeaux
I board the plane reading Bourdain
It’s been foretold how I’ma get it
Like my beats with the vinyl crackling
This shit bound to get ugly like diamond trafficking
My cockeye on a million, top 5 how I’m feeling
We sipping Cliquot and eating Popeyes with the villains
Take it back to Saigon Kitchen, North East to Zion
Fast forward let bygones be bygones
On these corners, we sipped 40s and got high on,
I’ll die and someone will paint my ugly mug in Krylon
Don’t cry over spilt Milc, these bars will remain
They’ll reminisce how I went hard in the paint
Brilly telling my wifey not to cry, he’ll be drunk with Dust
Don’t bring no drama to the service, they gon fuck you up
X got crocodile tears, with gators on
After the funeral, they’ll party till the break of dawn
Six wolves will carry me, on Fremont they’ll bury me
They’ll tell stories how I beat the devil daringly
Make sure they get my casket and they hit my bald fade right
Pour a gallon of Hennessy on my grave site
Life’s a marathon, sometimes it feel like a cage fight
I was built for bright lights, never got no stage fright
A bunch of old plugs and mistresses in attendance
My ugly children will carry on my resemblance
Hopefully at the very least, I’ll be remembered and loved
In memory of…
Blanco
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Fresh Selects
An independent record label based in Portland, Oregon. Purveyors of Tight Songs and great albums from all over the world.
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