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Blow Funk Flex

Artist:Pusha T 

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[Pusha T:] Malice found religion, Tony found prison I'm just tryna find my way up out this fucking kitchen A Birdseye view got me channeling my vision Turn one to two now the kilo's got a sibling Father knows best, wash my hands, all's forgiven We kicking up dust like the Colosseum floors Walls full of safe's like they mausoleum doors Pussy getting wet like she walking through my morgue Grant's, Jackson's, no room for George Yeah, the fear of God's in you motherfuckers This art imitate my life Your WorldStarHipHop fame based off imitation white Eliminate the fools ghouling imitation ice My music's for your soul, inspiration for your life Every dime made in his life more disastrous Help my young bitch see her way through her bachelors While my old bitch went back to get her Masters Same graduation, I was clapping in the rafters The truth hurts every time it's revealed What goes around comes around, this is life's Ferris wheel Grab hold and reverse the steering wheel as I parallel park Kentucky derby on the grill The fact that I'm free let's me know God is great Ten year marathon of me selling concentrate These rappers talk crowns but I'd rather talk fear Villain like Candyman, say my name and I'll appear No weapon formed against me shall prosper Hakuna matata, feet up, sipping java Ey yo, strolling up the totem pole, what's my only problem? Scrolling through my Rolodex, who shall bed my toddler? So many hands raised as the band plays I'm here now, watch how many niggas plans change [Kanye West:] And eventually answers to the call of Autumn All of them fallin' for the love of ballin' Got caught with 30 rocks, the cop look like Alec Baldwin Inter century anthems based off inner city tantrums Based off the way we was branded Face it, Jerome get more time than Brandon And at the airport they check all through my bag And tell me that it's random But we stay winning, this week has been a bad massage I need a happy ending and a new beginning And a new fitted and some job opportunities that's lucrative This the real world, homie, school finished They done stole your dreams, you dunno who did it I treat the cash the way the government treats AIDS I won't be satisfied til all my niggas get it, get it? I need more drinks and less lights And that American Apparel girl in just tights


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