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Correct Wading Lyrics
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Artists: T
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Twisted Insane
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Correct Wading
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Lyrics:
[Verse: Twisted Insane] They told me that I wasn't good enough (Just a bit more practice your not quite there yet) They told me that I need to go and quit (Quit, you suck) They told me everybody doesn't see and non believers, obvious they only want me at the bottom of there sleepin' in some shit Did it by myself and when it's hotter let the Brain People started switchin on me shit is really strange Funny how they switch up on you just to get some fame Took em out the gutter with the love and now they wanna get to smotherin your name Runnin for you but you never show up I ain't even playin wit' you buddy Anywhere you want it it can go up Ain't nobody playin wit' your money Party in the buildin' it can blow up Already got me faded going dummy Heard they wanna squash it but you know it Ain't nobody thinkin it was funny I don't know why people thinkin that I fuckin act wrong When I pull up on you and I caught you out to catch a fade now where the fuck's your back bone Ain't nobody hatin' I was waitin' for you but you never showed up I went back home Got back on the bus and then I heard they got to diggin' in your asshole with a strap on I don't think I got my fuckin' facts wrong Niggas up in life and they be all cap Get around somebody with some fame and they change up on you thinkin' that they all that Funny how you get somebody life to get the knife and get their dice and at your ball cap I'd rather be back in the streets, I love my city to the people like a fuckin' (mole rat?) Bitches better fall back Niggas tryna go and pin me like a fuckin' Suge Been in a family I never had advantages for doin' all the fuckin' shit I could Maybe I should quit my fans'll tell me they still ride behind me by myself I always could I would never let them take me out the game I feel the pain I went and said and now I'm good I ain't got no tour bus, no stereo fuck it I ain't got no millions and no radio budget I ain't go no one but self no help no nothin' Barely got the money in my pocket for English muffin fuck Would you dance with the devil and then sell your soul Take a bag on em for the half time Superbowl Would you kill your blood brother for another pot of gold Everyday you taught another lesson I will never open out no
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