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robes - alex goose remix - freddie gibbs & madlib lyrics

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[intro]
and without further ado
they guys and i are gonna like [?]

[verse 1: domo genesis]
yo, you ain’t sh*t if you ain’t never struggled
you gotta put in hard work before you flex your muscles
i see where n*ggas fall off tryna perfect the puzzle
you ain’t gotta like my work, sh*t, respect my hustle
i was a solid*hearted mind before i had to grind
my swagger fine, i never had to pack my lines with plastic rhymes
diamond in the rough, give it time, you’ll find your light and shine
this little light of mine, these are our highest times
but my third eye divine, i see my skies aligned
i feel like one with the moon but that’s some other sh*t
i stopped caring how people see me and i’m loving it
but no desire for your input, i does my sh*t
say what you want but know my ignorance is f*cking bliss

[verse 2: earl sweatshirt]
pardon the scents
checking press releases off the beeper like a pimp
smang and leave her off the strength, threw his demons off the cliff
the scenic route below, tires screaming in the mist
and like the key open the door, i twist
the weed i bought because i don’t know how to cope with sh*t
be easy, i could three*hit ’em right where his shoulder sit
maneuver through the swamp like a four*wheeler
hitting it quickly a co*rs* greeting
leave like the fatheafter r i never had or a low caesar
the son he had but ain’t never wanted like cold pizza
skull and bones out the same closet i grow reefer
the team eatin’, cold*hearted, spit feces
[hook: freddie gibbs]
ay, tell that n*gga i play the harmonica on this sh*t
alright, i don’t want no one take though, here we go

[verse 3: freddie gibbs]
uh, uck every rapper and his entourage
f*ck up the stage and blow dodi smoke on his bodyguards
nothin’ but cutlasses, cadillac coupes in my garage
make foreign bread, get some morning head on the autobahn
faces, smiling faces, they keep me motivated
and i got plenty fans but i ain’t sh*t without my haters
know this p*ssy a&r that threw some bullsh*t ‘cross the table
then next year i still be rappin’ and he be fired from his label, d*mn
b*tch i’m in the mob, i always got a job
breakin’ down the keisha, gettin’ brandon marshall for the quad
brett favre for the zone, five bands for the whole
wrist piece solid gold, neckpiece arctic froze
give you the smarts and the parts and also regarding hoes
he chase a b*tch but i was chose
“i only think of you, on two occasions”
that’s when i’m drunk and when i’m blazin’ up
my filipino b*tch, she fly me to la to f*ck
i weigh my options, i’d rather be cookin’, cuttin’ and weighin’ up
b*tch, it’s gibbs!

[outro]
well, um, i guess it’s all about to come to an end here

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