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lirik lagu foolishness/ competition – heavyt

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(intro: it’s real in here, yessir, uh, uh, uh, uh)
i’ve been, paying dues, and reminiscin’
juneteenth, front row seats
to dad’s crew spitting, i was around eight
collared greens and beans, we ate
could feel the beat
of that block monster release, underneath, my seat
gorillas thumpin’
in the trunk, an abundance of speakers and we was deep
im shedding tears, sitting here, still
my visions crystal clear, i see, when the love was thinner
printing never forget, stickers for robbie and reimer
(rest in peace) for you, i sip liqour
each swig’ll rinse the drain of confusion, fused with pain
think i’m loosin’ it, in my foolishness
i get lost in the past, getting nowhere fast as h*ll, man
if i had a h*ll cat, i’d slam the gas until the pad snapped
and it crashed, and through the windshield, i blast
that’s how i felt, losing my god father
(he was my god father) yellin, “really ty,”
at me and kb, for each tech we received, (haha) hoopin’ at sms
(nah) we was never, the best in the league
but it’s unclear to heavy t, why the f*ck you had to leave, (why?)
instead of each, indiscreet, racist police, who are k!lling us in
dozens in these streets, while we’re trying to breathe
i keep my eye on these sheets, hearts, within a knocking beat
combined with words i rhyme each week, i find peace…
but at times, i explode, then my flow blows up
larger than the pizza bombers, front armor
monger sends the track in, i attack it, i’m a master, to this masses
of half wits, who can’t spit, oh, it’s the man again
when down bad, without cash, i’ll steal socks, from ross
or swap the stickers, for a thinner figure, then disappear, and reappear in sears, as a mannequin, im manic, and i don’t talk much
or talk tough, but thoughts, must launch, plus, im monstrous
god forbid, big foot comes, across the kid
to any sc, emcee, do not forget, this is a competition
what i’m kicking, specific, to an individual
i don’t shoot subliminal, that sh*t ain’t cool, (never)
to last in this craft, i accepted the past, to be confident, when talking sh*t, on each hot spin
when i drop it, i see you’re locked in, like lakim, im raw and rare
walking circles around you squares
im your heinous, of course, nigs are gonna lie on the kid
(uhh) but your source is so wack, benzino ain’t even buying the sh*t
i’m confident, when competitions, opposition, can’t stop my composition, from being evil, a level above, crime in a sin
what crime i commit? this guy’s, innocent
if sky is the limit, i higher, than it!

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