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whachuknobout - sica lyrics

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what you know about success, bro?
’cause i ask myself, can’t lie, still want them paper checks
and that’s real though (that’s real though, that’s real though)
still ask myself
what you know about success, bro?
’cause i ask myself, can’t lie, still want them paper checks
and that’s real though (that’s real though, that’s real though)
still ask myself
what you know about success, bro?
but still ask myself, can’t lie, still want them paper checks
and that’s real though (that’s real though, that’s real though)
still ask myself
what you know about success, bro?
’cause ask myself, can’t lie, still want them paper checks
and that’s real though (that’s real though, that’s real though)
still ask mysеlf

what you know about success? let me ask you
gеt the paper? f*ckin’ b*tches in the bathroom?
hundred blunts in the ashtray
livin’ life on the fast lane
i’m sick of it, don’t ask me
let my soul burn out, like the tip of my joints
where my seatbelt at? i’m bout to crash in a porsche
sniffin’ lines but i’m not in the border
pick your poision, i’m lost and i don’t want a divorce
motherf*cker that’s real
man, i’ve been through it all and i don’t know how to feel
numbed out, in the meds, but i’m ridin’ for the thrill
still i don’t know what to feel, what place to fill
i’m still locked up in my cell
am i talkin’ to the devil or am i talkin’ to myself?
i don’t what to say, ’cause i’m lost in my h*ll
’cause i’m talkin’ to devil like i’m talkin’ to myself
motherf*cker that’s real
but still i ask myself, can’t lie, still want them paper checks
and that’s real though (that’s real though, that’s real though)
still ask myself
’cause what you know about success, bro?
still ask myself, can’t lie, still want them paper checks
and that’s real though (that’s real though, that’s real though)
still ask myself (said what you know ’bout?)

i don’t need no help bro
i don’t need that sh*t, just call up my amigos
call the hoes, better roll another indo
another pin, for the feeling of defeat bro
i’m the sh*t though, still feel like sh*t but f*ck it, i’m the sh*t though
hundred dollars in the back, and your b*tch, hoe
hundred dollars in the back of the seat bro
where the cash at? i’m ’bout to cash in
fat racks in my mansion
got a fat cat and she nasty
she a bad bad when its past 10
but i still don’t know what to feel, where to place all the feeling that i feel
’cause i’m locked in my cell
’cause i’m talkin’ to the devil like i’m talkin’ to myself
motherf*cker that’s real

talkin’ bout succes bro
’cause i ask myself, can’t lie, still want them paper checks
and that’s real though (that’s real though, that’s real though)
still ask myself
what you know about success, bro?
still ask myself, can’t lie, still want them paper checks
and that’s real though (that’s real though, that’s real though)
still ask myself (said what you know ’bout?)
he who makes a beast of himself, gets rid of the pain of being a man

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