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R.I.P. DJ AM
by
Ricky Hil
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Limos, b-b-baby Watching all the children play, smoking on my haze Thinking 'bout the days when I used to be so nerdy, yeah Now I'm high like I prefer to be, currently, slightly outta my mind, damn And then we cut girls off for getting outta line I wanna make it there but I'm running outta time Baby I'm one of a kind, spitting that sh*t 'til we running outta rhymes And the prophecy's, hi I'm designed Do we really die? They recycle our souls Buried in the ground 6 feet down R.I.P. to DJ AM Paying all my homage to the Fools Gold Sometimes life gеts a little too cold Don't know where to go, thеn your heart gets froze Damn, I feel like that every other day but i bring it right back I keep my head real high, but real down low with my black Yankee cap And if they open up the space then I'm filling up with gap Every single day I be filling up my stash, lil bit of Kush, little bit of hash Like I said man, R.I.P. DJ AM, Fools Gold, god bless everybody over there right now this a hard time, yeah, but we gon try to live our lives, if there's lettuce, heh, Limosa [Hook x2]
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