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    Dude – yeah, yeah, chillin’ in some shorts
    Sippin’ on a cold one, sittin’ on the porch
    Only chopsticks, I don’t ever use a fork
    Go for it, little dork, don’t you know I’m that dude?
    Yo, yo – born from a stork
    Kung pao chicken, you can pile on the pork
    When I get bored, I just call up scott storch
    House phone, no cord, of course I’m that dude

    Cut my hair in two years, drink beer, get weird
    Get clear advice from my friends, tell me get real
    No deal – I be sippin’ smoothies and shit
    Gettin’ stoned and then I go alone to movies and shit
    Bolognaise, homemade, only play croquet
    In a cloak and like old episodes of soul train
    One with the ojs, whole foods for the groceries
    Oj, loaves, cherries and yoplait
    No way jose – cuervo in a bear coat
    Heirloom tomatoes, grow my very own
    Bare-bone, dare you to out-stare a scarecrow
    Blow whales air hole, hair like scared werewolf
    Get down, sheets got a high thread count
    Red gown gets drowned out by my med sound
    Loud – ted talks on the ipad
    Old search says “bang bros” – my bad
    Good weed got me talkin’ ‘bout deities
    Aphrodite, sucker for good lighting
    And neat handwriting, sort of like calligraphy
    Trick or treat at 30, dressed up as jackie tree

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    Dude…
    Dude…

    Niggas is clowns, I hand out styles, like…
    I make ‘em at home beneath my workshop lights
    Hundreds of these, it’s nothin’ to me
    At home, over the stove, makin’ these keys
    Laughin’ at these little niggas mimicking me
    They slidin’ down, razorblades landin’ in alcohol rivers
    I can’t get with ‘em, nah, spitta chillin’
    And I still claim jets at your ma’fuckin’…
    With a batch of pot brownies in the oven and some hoes comin’
    Same old shit, spendin’, just the toilet bowl different
    Bathroom’s bigger, bigger mirrors
    Hoes seein’ themselves in ‘em and havin’ twisted visions of us livin’
    Coexistin’, demolishing my pimpin’
    None of that askin’ where I’m goin’, furthermore
    When I’m comin’ back, no whinin’, no taipei
    I still pull a disappearing act – l
    Never die, motherfucker, that’s what I say
    Gettin’ money out your bitches every goddamn day
    Homie said he want a show, I want ten grand
    I’mma need ten more when my plane land
    Baby never met another nigga higher or hotter
    Bitch, just hit the weed, don’t ask where I got it
    In the presence of these international globetrotters
    On the bus, ballin’ out in different times with my partners

    Dude…
    Dude…
    Dude…
    Dude…

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