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gettin' a grip - proph3cy lyrics

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verse:
how you gonna tell me which music i like
which women i might- which sweater or fitted is right- your kiddin’ me right?
say what you please but my rhythm is tight- i don’t another critic with their rigid advice- i’m clean and im cool-your stinking the room- spittin up a different combination of sh-t- on every single tune- yes i’m talkin to you- cluttering up the view make room i been blessed for very many moons
or how you gon’ tell me that i’m only buzzed
i need to do drugs i need the 2 points of molly up on my tounge
or how much i can grow off the shrooms like mario
got dejavu with this reoccurring scenario
you need to do this- you need to do that- you could take a step back b-tch i’m built for the tracks- like i’m nascar’s finest
ask your sinus
klein’s so i’ll he’ll spill that virus, but how you abolish the fact that i slap- just right off the bat- i’m white and i rap- but look at my stats
i know that there’s a group of some people laughin at that- and i’m tryina do is improve on people like that
your telling me there isn’t a white to ying and yangs black- like i ain’t bringin hip hop back?
hah ha ha ha ha!
and f-ck a label that tries to rep what i’m rhyming i’m in command of my flavor i’ll pick my packets of roman
why you tellin me not to blow on this herb- i do cuz you on my nerve- reciprocating my curve
yeah -ex girl- waddup- you thought i missed you?
the only piece i wanna see of youis p-ssy tissue
always tryna mold me and i don’t fold is the issue- lemme keep it all smiles you live the way to continue
more than often stressin me i knew i had to drop the b-tch
while my music was doing only the opposite
stop distorting my mind- people around me
you make me feel so lousy
mouths are talkin bout me
cuz how you gonna tell me my stories just ordinary
i don’t think you realize the pain in my coronary
built from self image decline- half of the time- i find- this deformity overshadows my mind
but how you gonna tell me what beauty is and what isn’t she took me back to her crib and were drunk i’m sure that i’m hittin
twenty minutes later the vibe was dead i’m dippin i’m walkin home in the rain and i am undoubtedly trippin- jumpin to the conclusion my flaw aborted my mission
who the f-ck am i kiddin the flaws inside of these b-tches
flaws inside our society god just grant me these wishes
let me get grip on myself i’m tired of slippin

hook:
gettin a grip on myself, f-ck everybody else (repeat)

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