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I live like a ship on a wave
Dragged by the deep, still paving a way
A slave for the day,
Set sails north and I let the force of the wind take me away
Take me away, sight's on a star
What's outside's inside who we are
What's inside's outside who we are
So who am I to define who we are?
Or who we're really not
But they all get ill and do the Millie Rock
They all sell souls at a mill-a-pop
That's a millipede, running Hip Hop
One thing I know, I am not them
I'm not slipping cuz I got Him
Lucy’s gripping cuz she got them
They ain't tripping cuz they balling
The struggle of a Hip Hop fan in the Idolatry of modern Pop culture.
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