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Artist: Cam Meekins f/ Jitta on the Track
Album:  1993, Vol. 2 (Mixtape)
Song:   Oh Word?!
Typed by: AZ Lyrics

Started off with nothing there ain't
Nobody who wanna touch him
I ain't about the class discussion
Tenth grade I said fuck it
Started making all these beats and raps
But, it wasn't bout' nothing
Smoking papers to the face a lot and drive around in public
What all these haters talk about
And then they want to party now
And I gave your girl mouth to mouth and
You want me to check your sound, cloud
I think its funny we ain't got nothing in common bro
I don't go to college
But, I party like I did

Oh Word?!
You got all your life planned out?
Oh Word?!
You just smoked all of that ounce
Oh Word?!
Say I love the life that I live
Oh Word?!
Cause I ain't worried about shit
To the spot now (Oh Word?!)
Smoking with the top down (Oh Word?!)
Tryna talk shit I ain't really concerned
Imma do me say you mad (Oh Word?!)

How many mother fuckers got a dream since 15
Then they turn their dream to reality
How many people don't quit when they don't
Ain't shit come free and they gotta work for a salary
See I knew I was born just to brew up a storm
But still I gotta work so casually
Just plot my attack got hot with some raps
Step back cause you motherfucking casualties
Killing the game but, flow in my vein
Might go insane and blow out my brain
I am the next Cobain you are lame
I keep it real and stay in my lane
I'm on the train with the rest of society
I hear your raps and I know that you lie to me
I know you are not shit cause I met you
Just keep it real and then I'll respect you
Every penny I made from this thing
Goes right back into it that's the way of the game
Gotta stay sane ain't came with the fame
Gotta sell weed is a god damn shame
Record labels gonna make millions fuck that
I'm gonna blow up the building fuck rap
I'm not gonna follow the cosign route
Get a Two Chainz feature and go pass south
This life is art death is hard
Good times bad times where do I start?
Knowing damn well you won't shit on me and
Your girl her and she sit on me
I've gone through leaps and bounds just speak to crowds
And I'm still gon hold it down for the 617
I drove around thinking damn imma make em' proud


[Jitta on the Track]
Started with a half an ounce and
Ended with a swisher sweet and
I been, knocking on your fucking door
Just like its trick or treating
And I just really just fucking need a party in my neighborhood
I don't even care If it ain't popping bet I make it good
She said my name was Jeter I swore I told her Jitta
She yanking on my ten I swear that we some heavy hitters
And I'm knocking out the poppy cause I fucking hate the picture
That you rappers claim you paint I'm pouring jin up on my liquor
Oh word no verse no word
Man I'm so high but, I know why that pussy down to four lives
That does not mean that's four life
You should just evaluate all my bitches got celery
So if I ever go broke I'll just hit up Amber and Melanie
And all my bitches bad I swear they need some felonies
Got an appetizer bitch on the side I call her celery
I'm just trying to make my city proud so they remember me
And that don't make no sense
Like a white girl drinking Hennessy