Game 7

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Feat. EPonym & Cas

It’s that fourth quarter shit, exposing the bitch made 
Separating fact from the fiction in this game 
Separate half ass scrubs who still claim 
It’s time to quit playing, well bitch we been saying 
Factual hustlers, don’t need a time table 
Work and dedication, the title arrive later 
Make love and loyalty, money arrive later 
Know who ya trust now, cause suck ass arrive later 
Down with my brothers; and none of us Phi Beta 
Go to town on you busters, I don’t blame ya, I’d hate us 
The system tried and true, filled with liars and fools 
So if we find some truth, it’s probably minus you 
So what you trying to do, its win or go home 
I ain't the type to lose, in case you don't know
The thing you don't know, I see it in your eyes
Mind steady on the prize, while I see your demise.

[Chorus] 

Life’s like a beach, how it be some sometime 
Grind in the streets, trying to see some shine 
Might not make it 
Fuck it I’ll play it 
Life’s like a beach, how it be sometime 
Grind in the street, trying see some shine 
Might not make it, but 
I ain't come all this way just to see you take it 

Fuck this anxiety, I'm on the wild
A thin line that separates suicide and survival
Put my heart inside a furnace 'till that fire ignite
The folks ain't in town, the town hold suburbans
And if you watching ball games, I play the field
And I ain't in the best ten, but your eyes can notice me
Damn, you see the high life, you know the wheels,
Respect the fans, my master skills, my master pills
I'm sad, you can't compete with the grace
Let alone breath the same air and exist in the same place
This my house, you fucking clowns, you still ain't the shit
Now, I need a pan for the pancakes, that's what the scoffer said
Feeling like the best I ever been
How you talking wagers when this life is on the change?
The odds aren't in your favor

[Chorus] 

You aren't no fan of this, you have no plan for this
You lost the house with this, they knew to bounce with this
You aren't no fan of this, you have no plan for this
You lost the house with this, they knew to bounce with this
The game 7 is the same leather who made cheddar.
Post dame in the view, shorty's in that new sweater
Seems they wipping, they tripping and be fall for that
Bounce behind the back, apply the butter, took his pass
Your pistol to repeat, hungry? You should eat
Feel the pressure, you won't hear it when I speak.

[Chorus] 
Get 'Game 7' at: amazon.com  sheetmusicplus.com

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