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fbook - killahronh lyrics

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giving all but still feeling played, a punch to the gut
pointless to speak your mind because the other person is like what?
or low*key evil with a george bush smirk, laughing hysterically inside at your obvious hurt?
dumbfounded, not the rapper actor, but is it all an act
or motivation to take off with the expectation of coming back?
i don’t really know, i’m just doing me
and me seems to be too motherf*cking goody*goody
breathe, can’t beat the wolves
my faith still grounds me regardless if i’m made a fool
you can forget, but never can forget
that no one gives a d*mn unless your name is freaking tupac
humans lie to your face, aced fake 101
past and present be the same but the present claims to be the one
i feel sorry for you, you were told you were everything
you were told you were it since the removal of the wedding ring
now the old school makes a comeback to get a taste
you looking stupid taking true lies to the face
save face, walk away like the redhead said
you ain’t sh*t because you hardly getting bread
temptations knocking at the door
one is curious, the other’s asking what you knocking for?
they don’t know you, they just trying to score
and i’m not gonna block it, i don’t care anymore
but i feel my heaven so close now
people telling me don’t turn ghost now
but life is brock lesnar choking me out
no one said that it would be easy on this route
i’m just breathing, but they hating
i’m just breathing, but they hating
i’m just breathing, but they hating

now real talk, do you screw your aspirations
drop all dreams and marry the one that you’re dating?
put the mic, guitar, drums, and bass on the ground
and get a 9 to 5 being krusty the clown
or kunta kinte when fiddler told him what to say
i’m not so m*s*ch*stic, but i’m pacifistic
like a ras kass track, rewind if you missed it
but can’t rewind and miss years like audiotistic
rap so encrypted, the future gets a hence
but it’s clear to the masters of common sense
feeling justified after one single rinse
d*mn, you were cold with rick james intent
the couch is dirty, no meaning in particular
crawling back home once the world gets sick of ya
the seams is a m*f*, kind of hard to let it go
that’s why i express with a no pineapple flow

but i feel my heaven’s so close now
people telling me don’t turn ghost now
but life is brock lesnar choking me out
no one said that it would be easy on this route
i’m just breathing, but they hating
i’m just breathing, but they hating
i’m just breathing, but they hating

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