[{"id":39452477,"name":"Poor Thang","trackName":"Poor Thang","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"Poor Thang","duration":291.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"So close\nBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nPicture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\nWhere niggas die over pride and live for the dough\nIf I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\nHopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\nAnd I'm conflicted with no digits to show\nBut fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\nThe temperaturе's low\nBut you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\nVicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\nPiss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\nFace, tits, for rent, owing\nFist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\nLives expire when niggas pride gets higher\nThan the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\nMy road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\nAnd tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\nI know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\nPost-traumatic stress on an immature brain\nLeaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\nNow he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nYou wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\nYou want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\nWe'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\nWe'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\nYou wanna—\n\nHere go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\nThis nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\nYou get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\nYou make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\nHe talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\nMan, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\nI know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\nWhen egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\nIt's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, live to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\nPlenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\nRent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\nWeren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\nAll of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\nGo 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\nI knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\nStarted rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\nYou more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\nYou can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\nAnd that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\nAnd you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\nSo how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\nYou a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\nYou ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\nMan, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\nMoved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\nIn the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\nThat's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\nWay before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\nHeard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\nWell, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\nGonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\nAnd don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nNah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nTryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\nPunk bitch (Real)\nPunk bitch, huh\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, get to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\nHey, what's up? Hey what's up\nHey, what's up?\nYo, what's good?\nHey\nHey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\nNah, fuck\nYour call has been forwarded to voicemail\nThe person you're trying to reach\nFuck\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.03]So close\n[00:03.30]Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n[00:10.68]Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:13.24]He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[00:15.00]Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:18.51]He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[00:21.16]Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n[00:23.80]Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n[00:26.36]If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n[00:28.00]Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n[00:31.68]And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n[00:33.79]But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n[00:36.36]The temperaturе's low\n[00:37.40]But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n[00:42.08]Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n[00:45.63]Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n[00:48.19]Face, tits, for rent, owing\n[00:49.79]Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n[00:52.47]Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n[00:54.88]Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n[00:57.80]My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n[01:00.52]And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n[01:02.87]I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n[01:05.47]Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n[01:08.19]Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n[01:10.75]Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n[01:13.35]Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:15.87]He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[01:18.55]Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:21.07]He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[01:23.71]You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n[01:25.67]You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n[01:28.02]We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n[01:30.55]We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n[01:33.19]You wanna—\n[01:33.90]Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n[01:36.50]This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n[01:39.13]You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n[01:41.61]You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n[01:44.49]He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n[01:47.18]Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n[01:49.45]I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n[01:52.17]When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n[01:55.39]It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n[01:58.68]It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n[02:01.60]It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n[02:04.15]It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n[02:04.94]Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[02:07.98]Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[02:10.45]Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n[02:13.10]And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n[02:15.81]Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n[02:18.21]Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n[02:20.89]Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n[02:23.37]All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n[02:26.01]Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n[02:28.66]I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n[02:31.21]Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n[02:33.89]You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n[02:36.41]You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n[02:38.78]And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n[02:41.69]And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n[02:44.29]So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n[02:47.05]You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n[02:49.44]You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n[02:51.85]Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n[02:54.53]Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n[02:57.29]'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n[02:59.64]In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n[03:02.60]That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n[03:05.21]Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n[03:07.76]Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n[03:10.36]Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n[03:12.93]Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n[03:15.56]And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:18.21]Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:20.85]Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n[03:25.12]Punk bitch (Real)\n[03:27.97]Punk bitch, huh\n[03:28.73]Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:31.67]He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[03:34.19]Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:36.75]He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[03:39.47]Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[03:42.07]Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[03:44.59]Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n[03:47.19]And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n[03:53.32]'Cause I've been through lots of things\n[04:17.20]Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n[04:21.29]Hey, what's up?\n[04:23.78]Yo, what's good?\n[04:26.65]Hey\n[04:28.01]Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n[04:31.29]Nah, fuck\n[04:46.77]Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n[04:48.61]The person you're trying to reach\n[04:49.90]Fuck\n[04:50.34]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Poor Thang\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: Poor Thang\n  duration_ms: 291000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: So close\n  start_ms: 2030\n  end_ms: 3300\n- text: Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  start_ms: 3300\n  end_ms: 10680\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 10680\n  end_ms: 13240\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 13240\n  end_ms: 15000\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 15000\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 21160\n- text: Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  start_ms: 21160\n  end_ms: 23800\n- text: Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  start_ms: 23800\n  end_ms: 26360\n- text: If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  start_ms: 26360\n  end_ms: 28000\n- text: Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  start_ms: 28000\n  end_ms: 31680\n- text: And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  start_ms: 31680\n  end_ms: 33790\n- text: But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  start_ms: 33790\n  end_ms: 36360\n- text: The temperaturе's low\n  start_ms: 36360\n  end_ms: 37400\n- text: But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  start_ms: 37400\n  end_ms: 42080\n- text: Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  start_ms: 42080\n  end_ms: 45630\n- text: Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  start_ms: 45630\n  end_ms: 48190\n- text: Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  start_ms: 48190\n  end_ms: 49790\n- text: Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  start_ms: 49790\n  end_ms: 52470\n- text: Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  start_ms: 52470\n  end_ms: 54880\n- text: Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  start_ms: 54880\n  end_ms: 57800\n- text: My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  start_ms: 57800\n  end_ms: 60520\n- text: And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  start_ms: 60520\n  end_ms: 62870\n- text: I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  start_ms: 62870\n  end_ms: 65470\n- text: Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  start_ms: 65470\n  end_ms: 68190\n- text: Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  start_ms: 68190\n  end_ms: 70750\n- text: Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n  start_ms: 70750\n  end_ms: 73350\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 73350\n  end_ms: 75870\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 75870\n  end_ms: 78550\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 78550\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 83710\n- text: You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  start_ms: 83710\n  end_ms: 85670\n- text: You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  start_ms: 85670\n  end_ms: 88020\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  start_ms: 88020\n  end_ms: 90550\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  start_ms: 90550\n  end_ms: 93190\n- text: You wanna—\n  start_ms: 93190\n  end_ms: 93900\n- text: Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  start_ms: 93900\n  end_ms: 96500\n- text: This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  start_ms: 96500\n  end_ms: 99130\n- text: You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  start_ms: 99130\n  end_ms: 101610\n- text: You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  start_ms: 101610\n  end_ms: 104490\n- text: He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  start_ms: 104490\n  end_ms: 107180\n- text: Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  start_ms: 107180\n  end_ms: 109450\n- text: I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  start_ms: 109450\n  end_ms: 112170\n- text: When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  start_ms: 112170\n  end_ms: 115390\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  start_ms: 115390\n  end_ms: 118680\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  start_ms: 118680\n  end_ms: 121600\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  start_ms: 121600\n  end_ms: 124150\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n  start_ms: 124150\n  end_ms: 124940\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 124940\n  end_ms: 127980\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 127980\n  end_ms: 130450\n- text: Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  start_ms: 130450\n  end_ms: 133100\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 133100\n  end_ms: 135810\n- text: Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 135810\n  end_ms: 138210\n- text: Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 138210\n  end_ms: 140890\n- text: Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 140890\n  end_ms: 143370\n- text: All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 143370\n  end_ms: 146010\n- text: Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 146010\n  end_ms: 148660\n- text: I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 148660\n  end_ms: 151210\n- text: Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 151210\n  end_ms: 153890\n- text: You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 153890\n  end_ms: 156410\n- text: You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 156410\n  end_ms: 158780\n- text: And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 158780\n  end_ms: 161690\n- text: And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 161690\n  end_ms: 164290\n- text: So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 164290\n  end_ms: 167050\n- text: You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 167050\n  end_ms: 169440\n- text: You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  start_ms: 169440\n  end_ms: 171850\n- text: Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  start_ms: 171850\n  end_ms: 174530\n- text: Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  start_ms: 174530\n  end_ms: 177290\n- text: '''Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched'\n  start_ms: 177290\n  end_ms: 179640\n- text: In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  start_ms: 179640\n  end_ms: 182600\n- text: That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 182600\n  end_ms: 185210\n- text: Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 185210\n  end_ms: 187760\n- text: Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  start_ms: 187760\n  end_ms: 190360\n- text: Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 190360\n  end_ms: 192930\n- text: Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 192930\n  end_ms: 195560\n- text: And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 195560\n  end_ms: 198210\n- text: Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 198210\n  end_ms: 200850\n- text: Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  start_ms: 200850\n  end_ms: 205120\n- text: Punk bitch (Real)\n  start_ms: 205120\n  end_ms: 207970\n- text: Punk bitch, huh\n  start_ms: 207970\n  end_ms: 208730\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 208730\n  end_ms: 211670\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 211670\n  end_ms: 214190\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 214190\n  end_ms: 216750\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 216750\n  end_ms: 219470\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 219470\n  end_ms: 222070\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 222070\n  end_ms: 224590\n- text: Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  start_ms: 224590\n  end_ms: 227190\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 227190\n  end_ms: 233320\n- text: '''Cause I''ve been through lots of things'\n  start_ms: 233320\n  end_ms: 257200\n- text: Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  start_ms: 257200\n  end_ms: 261290\n- text: Hey, what's up?\n  start_ms: 261290\n  end_ms: 263780\n- text: Yo, what's good?\n  start_ms: 263780\n  end_ms: 266650\n- text: Hey\n  start_ms: 266650\n  end_ms: 268010\n- text: Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  start_ms: 268010\n  end_ms: 271290\n- text: Nah, fuck\n  start_ms: 271290\n  end_ms: 286770\n- text: Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  start_ms: 286770\n  end_ms: 288610\n- text: The person you're trying to reach\n  start_ms: 288610\n  end_ms: 289900\n- text: Fuck\n  start_ms: 289900\n  end_ms: 290340\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 290340\nplain: |\n  So close\n  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  The temperaturе's low\n  But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  You wanna—\n\n  Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n  Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n  In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  Punk bitch (Real)\n  Punk bitch, huh\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n  Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  Hey, what's up?\n  Yo, what's good?\n  Hey\n  Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  Nah, fuck\n  Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  The person you're trying to reach\n  Fuck\n"},{"id":29587891,"name":"J. Cole - Poor Thang (Official Audio)","trackName":"J. Cole - Poor Thang (Official Audio)","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"J. Cole","duration":290.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"So close\nBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\nBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nPicture my soul climbin' outta infinite hole\nWhere niggas die over pride and live for the dough\nIf I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\nHopin' these waves'll pave, but the ripples is slow\n\nAnd I'm conflicted with no digits to show\nBut fantasies of frivolous hos grippin' this pole\nThe temperature's low\nBut you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on the whip in the snow\n\nVicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\nPiss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\nFace, tits, for rent, owin'\nFist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n\nLives expire when niggas pride gets higher\nThan the vocal range inside Mariah's vocal chain, uh\nMy road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\nAnd tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n\nI know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\nPost-traumatic stress on an immature brain\nLeaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\nNow he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nYou wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\nYou want some gangsta's front yo' motherfuckin' house?\nWe'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\nWe'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (set), you wanna\n\nHere go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\nThis nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\nYou get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\nYou make you some coins, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n\nHe talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\nMan, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\nI know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\nWhen egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (put your hands up)\n\nIt's when they close the curtain (put your motherfu-)\nIt's when they close the curtain (you pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (you pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (you gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, live to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\nPlenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\nRent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\nWeren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\nAll of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n\nGo 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\nI knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\nStarted rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\nYou more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n\nYou can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\nAnd that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\nAnd you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\nSo how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n\nYou a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\nYou ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\nMan, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\nMoved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n\n'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\nIn the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\nThat's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\nWay before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n\nHeard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\nWell, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\nGonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\nAnd don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n\nNah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nTryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('cause I've been through lots of things)\nPunk bitch (real)\nPunk bitch, huh\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, get to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n'Cause I've been through worser things\n\nAy, what's up? Ay, what's up\nAy, what's up?\nYo, what's good?\nHey, ay, what's up? What's up, how you been? Nah, fuck\n\nYour call has been forwarded to voicemail\nThe person you're tryin' to reach (fuck)","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.16] So close\n[00:03.62] Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n[00:06.55] Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n[00:10.43] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:13.52] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[00:15.84] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:18.70] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[00:21.00] Picture my soul climbin' outta infinite hole\n[00:23.71] Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n[00:26.62] If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n[00:29.33] Hopin' these waves'll pave, but the ripples is slow\n[00:31.79] And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n[00:34.08] But fantasies of frivolous hos grippin' this pole\n[00:36.57] The temperature's low\n[00:37.75] But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on the whip in the snow\n[00:42.10] Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n[00:45.63] Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n[00:48.54] Face, tits, for rent, owin'\n[00:49.96] Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n[00:52.69] Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n[00:54.78] Than the vocal range inside Mariah's vocal chain, uh\n[00:57.60] My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n[01:00.39] And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n[01:03.06] I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n[01:05.54] Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n[01:08.29] Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n[01:10.50] Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n[01:12.93] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:15.60] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[01:18.36] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:21.09] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[01:23.57] You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n[01:25.79] You want some gangsta's front yo' motherfuckin' house?\n[01:28.24] We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n[01:30.70] We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (set), you wanna\n[01:34.01] Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n[01:36.59] This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n[01:39.61] You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n[01:41.72] You make you some coins, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n[01:44.20] He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n[01:46.93] Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n[01:49.45] I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n[01:52.10] When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (put your hands up)\n[01:55.62] It's when they close the curtain (put your motherfu-)\n[01:58.72] It's when they close the curtain (you pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n[02:02.45] It's when they close the curtain (you pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n[02:05.12] It's when they close the curtain (you gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n[02:07.46] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[02:08.41] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[02:10.59] Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n[02:13.05] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n[02:15.68] Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n[02:17.99] Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n[02:20.65] Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n[02:23.34] All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n[02:25.84] Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n[02:28.34] I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n[02:31.04] Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n[02:33.58] You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n[02:36.15] You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n[02:38.61] And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n[02:41.37] And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n[02:44.02] So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n[02:46.52] You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n[02:49.04] You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n[02:51.76] Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n[02:54.47] Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n[02:57.39] 'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n[02:59.78] In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n[03:02.42] That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n[03:04.92] Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n[03:07.68] Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n[03:10.18] Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n[03:12.80] Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n[03:15.30] And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:18.46] Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:20.83] Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('cause I've been through lots of things)\n[03:25.66] Punk bitch (real)\n[03:26.12] Punk bitch, huh\n[03:29.05] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:31.75] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[03:33.88] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:36.97] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[03:39.26] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[03:41.57] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[03:44.26] Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n[03:46.82] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n[03:53.71] 'Cause I've been through worser things\n[04:17.75] Ay, what's up? Ay, what's up\n[04:21.05] Ay, what's up?\n[04:23.58] Yo, what's good?\n[04:26.65] Hey, ay, what's up? What's up, how you been? Nah, fuck\n[04:46.80] Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n[04:49.22] The person you're tryin' to reach (fuck)\n[04:50.18] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: J. Cole - Poor Thang (Official Audio)\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: J. Cole\n  duration_ms: 290000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: So close\n  start_ms: 2160\n  end_ms: 3620\n- text: Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  start_ms: 3620\n  end_ms: 6550\n- text: Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  start_ms: 6550\n  end_ms: 10430\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 10430\n  end_ms: 13520\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 13520\n  end_ms: 15840\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 15840\n  end_ms: 18700\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 18700\n  end_ms: 21000\n- text: Picture my soul climbin' outta infinite hole\n  start_ms: 21000\n  end_ms: 23710\n- text: Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  start_ms: 23710\n  end_ms: 26620\n- text: If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  start_ms: 26620\n  end_ms: 29330\n- text: Hopin' these waves'll pave, but the ripples is slow\n  start_ms: 29330\n  end_ms: 31790\n- text: And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  start_ms: 31790\n  end_ms: 34080\n- text: But fantasies of frivolous hos grippin' this pole\n  start_ms: 34080\n  end_ms: 36570\n- text: The temperature's low\n  start_ms: 36570\n  end_ms: 37750\n- text: But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on the whip in the snow\n  start_ms: 37750\n  end_ms: 42100\n- text: Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  start_ms: 42100\n  end_ms: 45630\n- text: Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  start_ms: 45630\n  end_ms: 48540\n- text: Face, tits, for rent, owin'\n  start_ms: 48540\n  end_ms: 49960\n- text: Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  start_ms: 49960\n  end_ms: 52690\n- text: Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  start_ms: 52690\n  end_ms: 54780\n- text: Than the vocal range inside Mariah's vocal chain, uh\n  start_ms: 54780\n  end_ms: 57600\n- text: My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  start_ms: 57600\n  end_ms: 60390\n- text: And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  start_ms: 60390\n  end_ms: 63060\n- text: I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  start_ms: 63060\n  end_ms: 65540\n- text: Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  start_ms: 65540\n  end_ms: 68290\n- text: Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  start_ms: 68290\n  end_ms: 70500\n- text: Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n  start_ms: 70500\n  end_ms: 72930\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 72930\n  end_ms: 75600\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 75600\n  end_ms: 78360\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 78360\n  end_ms: 81090\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 81090\n  end_ms: 83570\n- text: You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  start_ms: 83570\n  end_ms: 85790\n- text: You want some gangsta's front yo' motherfuckin' house?\n  start_ms: 85790\n  end_ms: 88240\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  start_ms: 88240\n  end_ms: 90700\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (set), you wanna\n  start_ms: 90700\n  end_ms: 94010\n- text: Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  start_ms: 94010\n  end_ms: 96590\n- text: This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  start_ms: 96590\n  end_ms: 99610\n- text: You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  start_ms: 99610\n  end_ms: 101720\n- text: You make you some coins, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  start_ms: 101720\n  end_ms: 104200\n- text: He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  start_ms: 104200\n  end_ms: 106930\n- text: Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  start_ms: 106930\n  end_ms: 109450\n- text: I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  start_ms: 109450\n  end_ms: 112100\n- text: When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (put your hands up)\n  start_ms: 112100\n  end_ms: 115620\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (put your motherfu-)\n  start_ms: 115620\n  end_ms: 118720\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (you pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  start_ms: 118720\n  end_ms: 122450\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (you pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  start_ms: 122450\n  end_ms: 125120\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (you gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n  start_ms: 125120\n  end_ms: 127460\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 127460\n  end_ms: 128410\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 128410\n  end_ms: 130590\n- text: Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  start_ms: 130590\n  end_ms: 133050\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 133050\n  end_ms: 135680\n- text: Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 135680\n  end_ms: 137990\n- text: Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 137990\n  end_ms: 140650\n- text: Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 140650\n  end_ms: 143340\n- text: All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 143340\n  end_ms: 145840\n- text: Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 145840\n  end_ms: 148340\n- text: I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 148340\n  end_ms: 151040\n- text: Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 151040\n  end_ms: 153580\n- text: You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 153580\n  end_ms: 156150\n- text: You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 156150\n  end_ms: 158610\n- text: And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 158610\n  end_ms: 161370\n- text: And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 161370\n  end_ms: 164020\n- text: So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 164020\n  end_ms: 166520\n- text: You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 166520\n  end_ms: 169040\n- text: You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  start_ms: 169040\n  end_ms: 171760\n- text: Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  start_ms: 171760\n  end_ms: 174470\n- text: Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  start_ms: 174470\n  end_ms: 177390\n- text: '''Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched'\n  start_ms: 177390\n  end_ms: 179780\n- text: In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  start_ms: 179780\n  end_ms: 182420\n- text: That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 182420\n  end_ms: 184920\n- text: Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 184920\n  end_ms: 187680\n- text: Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  start_ms: 187680\n  end_ms: 190180\n- text: Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 190180\n  end_ms: 192800\n- text: Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 192800\n  end_ms: 195300\n- text: And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 195300\n  end_ms: 198460\n- text: Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 198460\n  end_ms: 200830\n- text: Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('cause I've been through lots of things)\n  start_ms: 200830\n  end_ms: 205660\n- text: Punk bitch (real)\n  start_ms: 205660\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: Punk bitch, huh\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 209050\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 209050\n  end_ms: 211750\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 211750\n  end_ms: 213880\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 213880\n  end_ms: 216970\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 216970\n  end_ms: 219260\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 219260\n  end_ms: 221570\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 221570\n  end_ms: 224260\n- text: Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  start_ms: 224260\n  end_ms: 226820\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 226820\n  end_ms: 233710\n- text: '''Cause I''ve been through worser things'\n  start_ms: 233710\n  end_ms: 257750\n- text: Ay, what's up? Ay, what's up\n  start_ms: 257750\n  end_ms: 261050\n- text: Ay, what's up?\n  start_ms: 261050\n  end_ms: 263580\n- text: Yo, what's good?\n  start_ms: 263580\n  end_ms: 266650\n- text: Hey, ay, what's up? What's up, how you been? Nah, fuck\n  start_ms: 266650\n  end_ms: 286800\n- text: Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  start_ms: 286800\n  end_ms: 289220\n- text: The person you're tryin' to reach (fuck)\n  start_ms: 289220\n  end_ms: 290180\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 290180\nplain: |-\n  So close\n  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Picture my soul climbin' outta infinite hole\n  Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  Hopin' these waves'll pave, but the ripples is slow\n\n  And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  But fantasies of frivolous hos grippin' this pole\n  The temperature's low\n  But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on the whip in the snow\n\n  Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  Face, tits, for rent, owin'\n  Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n\n  Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  Than the vocal range inside Mariah's vocal chain, uh\n  My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n\n  I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  You want some gangsta's front yo' motherfuckin' house?\n  We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (set), you wanna\n\n  Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  You make you some coins, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n\n  He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (put your hands up)\n\n  It's when they close the curtain (put your motherfu-)\n  It's when they close the curtain (you pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (you pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (you gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n  Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n\n  Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n\n  You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n\n  You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n\n  'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n  In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n\n  Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n\n  Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('cause I've been through lots of things)\n  Punk bitch (real)\n  Punk bitch, huh\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  'Cause I've been through worser things\n\n  Ay, what's up? Ay, what's up\n  Ay, what's up?\n  Yo, what's good?\n  Hey, ay, what's up? What's up, how you been? Nah, fuck\n\n  Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  The person you're tryin' to reach (fuck)\n"},{"id":31419583,"name":"J. Cole - Poor Thang (Official Audio)","trackName":"J. Cole - Poor Thang (Official Audio)","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"J. Cole Videos","duration":291.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"So close\nBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\nBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nPicture my soul climbin' outta infinite hole\nWhere niggas die over pride and live for the dough\nIf I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\nHopin' these waves'll pave, but the ripples is slow\n\nAnd I'm conflicted with no digits to show\nBut fantasies of frivolous hos grippin' this pole\nThe temperature's low\nBut you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on the whip in the snow\n\nVicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\nPiss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\nFace, tits, for rent, owin'\nFist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n\nLives expire when niggas pride gets higher\nThan the vocal range inside Mariah's vocal chain, uh\nMy road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\nAnd tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n\nI know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\nPost-traumatic stress on an immature brain\nLeaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\nNow he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nYou wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\nYou want some gangsta's front yo' motherfuckin' house?\nWe'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\nWe'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (set), you wanna\n\nHere go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\nThis nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\nYou get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\nYou make you some coins, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n\nHe talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\nMan, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\nI know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\nWhen egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (put your hands up)\n\nIt's when they close the curtain (put your motherfu-)\nIt's when they close the curtain (you pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (you pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (you gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, live to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\nPlenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\nRent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\nWeren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\nAll of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n\nGo 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\nI knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\nStarted rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\nYou more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n\nYou can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\nAnd that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\nAnd you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\nSo how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n\nYou a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\nYou ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\nMan, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\nMoved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n\n'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\nIn the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\nThat's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\nWay before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n\nHeard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\nWell, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\nGonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\nAnd don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n\nNah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nTryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('cause I've been through lots of things)\nPunk bitch (real)\nPunk bitch, huh\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, get to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n'Cause I've been through worser things\n\nAy, what's up? Ay, what's up\nAy, what's up?\nYo, what's good?\nHey, ay, what's up? What's up, how you been? Nah, fuck\n\nYour call has been forwarded to voicemail\nThe person you're tryin' to reach (fuck)","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.16] So close\n[00:03.62] Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n[00:06.55] Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n[00:10.43] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:13.52] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[00:15.84] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:18.70] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[00:21.00] Picture my soul climbin' outta infinite hole\n[00:23.71] Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n[00:26.62] If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n[00:29.33] Hopin' these waves'll pave, but the ripples is slow\n[00:31.79] And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n[00:34.08] But fantasies of frivolous hos grippin' this pole\n[00:36.57] The temperature's low\n[00:37.75] But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on the whip in the snow\n[00:42.10] Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n[00:45.63] Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n[00:48.54] Face, tits, for rent, owin'\n[00:49.96] Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n[00:52.69] Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n[00:54.78] Than the vocal range inside Mariah's vocal chain, uh\n[00:57.60] My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n[01:00.39] And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n[01:03.06] I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n[01:05.54] Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n[01:08.29] Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n[01:10.50] Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n[01:12.93] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:15.60] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[01:18.36] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:21.09] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[01:23.57] You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n[01:25.79] You want some gangsta's front yo' motherfuckin' house?\n[01:28.24] We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n[01:30.70] We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (set), you wanna\n[01:34.01] Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n[01:36.59] This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n[01:39.61] You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n[01:41.72] You make you some coins, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n[01:44.20] He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n[01:46.93] Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n[01:49.45] I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n[01:52.10] When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (put your hands up)\n[01:55.62] It's when they close the curtain (put your motherfu-)\n[01:58.72] It's when they close the curtain (you pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n[02:02.45] It's when they close the curtain (you pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n[02:05.12] It's when they close the curtain (you gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n[02:07.46] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[02:08.41] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[02:10.59] Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n[02:13.05] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n[02:15.68] Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n[02:17.99] Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n[02:20.65] Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n[02:23.34] All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n[02:25.84] Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n[02:28.34] I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n[02:31.04] Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n[02:33.58] You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n[02:36.15] You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n[02:38.61] And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n[02:41.37] And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n[02:44.02] So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n[02:46.52] You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n[02:49.04] You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n[02:51.76] Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n[02:54.47] Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n[02:57.39] 'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n[02:59.78] In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n[03:02.42] That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n[03:04.92] Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n[03:07.68] Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n[03:10.18] Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n[03:12.80] Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n[03:15.30] And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:18.46] Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:20.83] Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('cause I've been through lots of things)\n[03:25.66] Punk bitch (real)\n[03:26.12] Punk bitch, huh\n[03:29.05] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:31.75] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[03:33.88] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:36.97] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[03:39.26] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[03:41.57] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[03:44.26] Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n[03:46.82] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n[03:53.71] 'Cause I've been through worser things\n[04:17.75] Ay, what's up? Ay, what's up\n[04:21.05] Ay, what's up?\n[04:23.58] Yo, what's good?\n[04:26.65] Hey, ay, what's up? What's up, how you been? Nah, fuck\n[04:46.80] Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n[04:49.22] The person you're tryin' to reach (fuck)\n[04:50.18] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: J. Cole - Poor Thang (Official Audio)\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: J. Cole Videos\n  duration_ms: 291000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: So close\n  start_ms: 2160\n  end_ms: 3620\n- text: Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  start_ms: 3620\n  end_ms: 6550\n- text: Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  start_ms: 6550\n  end_ms: 10430\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 10430\n  end_ms: 13520\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 13520\n  end_ms: 15840\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 15840\n  end_ms: 18700\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 18700\n  end_ms: 21000\n- text: Picture my soul climbin' outta infinite hole\n  start_ms: 21000\n  end_ms: 23710\n- text: Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  start_ms: 23710\n  end_ms: 26620\n- text: If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  start_ms: 26620\n  end_ms: 29330\n- text: Hopin' these waves'll pave, but the ripples is slow\n  start_ms: 29330\n  end_ms: 31790\n- text: And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  start_ms: 31790\n  end_ms: 34080\n- text: But fantasies of frivolous hos grippin' this pole\n  start_ms: 34080\n  end_ms: 36570\n- text: The temperature's low\n  start_ms: 36570\n  end_ms: 37750\n- text: But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on the whip in the snow\n  start_ms: 37750\n  end_ms: 42100\n- text: Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  start_ms: 42100\n  end_ms: 45630\n- text: Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  start_ms: 45630\n  end_ms: 48540\n- text: Face, tits, for rent, owin'\n  start_ms: 48540\n  end_ms: 49960\n- text: Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  start_ms: 49960\n  end_ms: 52690\n- text: Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  start_ms: 52690\n  end_ms: 54780\n- text: Than the vocal range inside Mariah's vocal chain, uh\n  start_ms: 54780\n  end_ms: 57600\n- text: My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  start_ms: 57600\n  end_ms: 60390\n- text: And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  start_ms: 60390\n  end_ms: 63060\n- text: I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  start_ms: 63060\n  end_ms: 65540\n- text: Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  start_ms: 65540\n  end_ms: 68290\n- text: Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  start_ms: 68290\n  end_ms: 70500\n- text: Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n  start_ms: 70500\n  end_ms: 72930\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 72930\n  end_ms: 75600\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 75600\n  end_ms: 78360\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 78360\n  end_ms: 81090\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 81090\n  end_ms: 83570\n- text: You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  start_ms: 83570\n  end_ms: 85790\n- text: You want some gangsta's front yo' motherfuckin' house?\n  start_ms: 85790\n  end_ms: 88240\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  start_ms: 88240\n  end_ms: 90700\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (set), you wanna\n  start_ms: 90700\n  end_ms: 94010\n- text: Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  start_ms: 94010\n  end_ms: 96590\n- text: This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  start_ms: 96590\n  end_ms: 99610\n- text: You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  start_ms: 99610\n  end_ms: 101720\n- text: You make you some coins, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  start_ms: 101720\n  end_ms: 104200\n- text: He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  start_ms: 104200\n  end_ms: 106930\n- text: Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  start_ms: 106930\n  end_ms: 109450\n- text: I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  start_ms: 109450\n  end_ms: 112100\n- text: When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (put your hands up)\n  start_ms: 112100\n  end_ms: 115620\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (put your motherfu-)\n  start_ms: 115620\n  end_ms: 118720\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (you pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  start_ms: 118720\n  end_ms: 122450\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (you pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  start_ms: 122450\n  end_ms: 125120\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (you gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n  start_ms: 125120\n  end_ms: 127460\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 127460\n  end_ms: 128410\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 128410\n  end_ms: 130590\n- text: Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  start_ms: 130590\n  end_ms: 133050\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 133050\n  end_ms: 135680\n- text: Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 135680\n  end_ms: 137990\n- text: Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 137990\n  end_ms: 140650\n- text: Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 140650\n  end_ms: 143340\n- text: All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 143340\n  end_ms: 145840\n- text: Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 145840\n  end_ms: 148340\n- text: I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 148340\n  end_ms: 151040\n- text: Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 151040\n  end_ms: 153580\n- text: You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 153580\n  end_ms: 156150\n- text: You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 156150\n  end_ms: 158610\n- text: And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 158610\n  end_ms: 161370\n- text: And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 161370\n  end_ms: 164020\n- text: So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 164020\n  end_ms: 166520\n- text: You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 166520\n  end_ms: 169040\n- text: You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  start_ms: 169040\n  end_ms: 171760\n- text: Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  start_ms: 171760\n  end_ms: 174470\n- text: Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  start_ms: 174470\n  end_ms: 177390\n- text: '''Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched'\n  start_ms: 177390\n  end_ms: 179780\n- text: In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  start_ms: 179780\n  end_ms: 182420\n- text: That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 182420\n  end_ms: 184920\n- text: Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 184920\n  end_ms: 187680\n- text: Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  start_ms: 187680\n  end_ms: 190180\n- text: Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 190180\n  end_ms: 192800\n- text: Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 192800\n  end_ms: 195300\n- text: And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 195300\n  end_ms: 198460\n- text: Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 198460\n  end_ms: 200830\n- text: Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('cause I've been through lots of things)\n  start_ms: 200830\n  end_ms: 205660\n- text: Punk bitch (real)\n  start_ms: 205660\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: Punk bitch, huh\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 209050\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 209050\n  end_ms: 211750\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 211750\n  end_ms: 213880\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 213880\n  end_ms: 216970\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 216970\n  end_ms: 219260\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 219260\n  end_ms: 221570\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 221570\n  end_ms: 224260\n- text: Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  start_ms: 224260\n  end_ms: 226820\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 226820\n  end_ms: 233710\n- text: '''Cause I''ve been through worser things'\n  start_ms: 233710\n  end_ms: 257750\n- text: Ay, what's up? Ay, what's up\n  start_ms: 257750\n  end_ms: 261050\n- text: Ay, what's up?\n  start_ms: 261050\n  end_ms: 263580\n- text: Yo, what's good?\n  start_ms: 263580\n  end_ms: 266650\n- text: Hey, ay, what's up? What's up, how you been? Nah, fuck\n  start_ms: 266650\n  end_ms: 286800\n- text: Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  start_ms: 286800\n  end_ms: 289220\n- text: The person you're tryin' to reach (fuck)\n  start_ms: 289220\n  end_ms: 290180\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 290180\nplain: |-\n  So close\n  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Picture my soul climbin' outta infinite hole\n  Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  Hopin' these waves'll pave, but the ripples is slow\n\n  And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  But fantasies of frivolous hos grippin' this pole\n  The temperature's low\n  But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on the whip in the snow\n\n  Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  Face, tits, for rent, owin'\n  Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n\n  Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  Than the vocal range inside Mariah's vocal chain, uh\n  My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n\n  I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  You want some gangsta's front yo' motherfuckin' house?\n  We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (set), you wanna\n\n  Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  You make you some coins, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n\n  He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (put your hands up)\n\n  It's when they close the curtain (put your motherfu-)\n  It's when they close the curtain (you pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (you pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (you gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n  Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n\n  Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n\n  You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n\n  You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n\n  'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n  In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n\n  Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n\n  Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('cause I've been through lots of things)\n  Punk bitch (real)\n  Punk bitch, huh\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  'Cause I've been through worser things\n\n  Ay, what's up? Ay, what's up\n  Ay, what's up?\n  Yo, what's good?\n  Hey, ay, what's up? What's up, how you been? Nah, fuck\n\n  Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  The person you're tryin' to reach (fuck)\n"},{"id":28169566,"name":"Poor Thang","trackName":"Poor Thang","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"J. Cole","duration":290.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"So close\nBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nPicture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\nWhere niggas die over pride and live for the dough\nIf I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\nHopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\nAnd I'm conflicted with no digits to show\nBut fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\nThe temperaturе's low\nBut you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\nVicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\nPiss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\nFace, tits, for rent, owing\nFist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\nLives expire when niggas pride gets higher\nThan the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\nMy road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\nAnd tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\nI know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\nPost-traumatic stress on an immature brain\nLeaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\nNow he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nYou wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\nYou want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\nWe'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\nWe'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\nYou wanna—\n\nHere go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\nThis nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\nYou get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\nYou make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\nHe talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\nMan, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\nI know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\nWhen egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\nIt's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, live to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\nPlenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\nRent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\nWeren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\nAll of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\nGo 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\nI knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\nStarted rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\nYou more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\nYou can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\nAnd that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\nAnd you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\nSo how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\nYou a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\nYou ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\nMan, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\nMoved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\nIn the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\nThat's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\nWay before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\nHeard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\nWell, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\nGonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\nAnd don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nNah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nTryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\nPunk bitch (Real)\nPunk bitch, huh\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, get to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\nHey, what's up? Hey what's up\nHey, what's up?\nYo, what's good?\nHey\nHey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\nNah, fuck\nYour call has been forwarded to voicemail\nThe person you're trying to reach\nFuck\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.03] So close\n[00:03.30] Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n[00:10.68] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:13.24] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[00:15.00] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:18.51] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[00:21.16] Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n[00:23.80] Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n[00:26.36] If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n[00:28.00] Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n[00:31.68] And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n[00:33.79] But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n[00:36.36] The temperaturе's low\n[00:37.40] But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n[00:42.08] Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n[00:45.63] Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n[00:48.19] Face, tits, for rent, owing\n[00:49.79] Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n[00:52.47] Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n[00:54.88] Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n[00:57.80] My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n[01:00.52] And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n[01:02.87] I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n[01:05.47] Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n[01:08.19] Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n[01:10.75] Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n[01:13.35] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:15.87] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[01:18.55] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:21.07] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[01:23.71] You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n[01:25.67] You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n[01:28.02] We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n[01:30.55] We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n[01:33.19] You wanna—\n\n[01:33.90] Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n[01:36.50] This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n[01:39.13] You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n[01:41.61] You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n[01:44.49] He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n[01:47.18] Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n[01:49.45] I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n[01:52.17] When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n[01:55.39] It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n[01:58.68] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n[02:01.60] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n[02:04.15] It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n[02:04.94] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[02:07.98] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[02:10.45] Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n[02:13.10] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n[02:15.81] Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n[02:18.21] Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n[02:20.89] Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n[02:23.37] All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n[02:26.01] Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n[02:28.66] I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n[02:31.21] Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n[02:33.89] You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n[02:36.41] You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n[02:38.78] And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n[02:41.69] And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n[02:44.29] So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n[02:47.05] You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n[02:49.44] You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n[02:51.85] Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n[02:54.53] Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n[02:57.29] 'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n[02:59.64] In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n[03:02.60] That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n[03:05.21] Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n[03:07.76] Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n[03:10.36] Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n[03:12.93] Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n[03:15.56] And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:18.21] Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:20.85] Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n[03:25.12] Punk bitch (Real)\n[03:27.97] Punk bitch, huh\n\n[03:28.73] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:31.67] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[03:34.19] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:36.75] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[03:39.47] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[03:42.07] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[03:44.59] Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n[03:47.19] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n[03:53.32] 'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n[04:17.20] Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n[04:21.29] Hey, what's up?\n[04:23.78] Yo, what's good?\n[04:26.65] Hey\n[04:28.01] Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n[04:31.29] Nah, fuck\n[04:46.77] Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n[04:48.61] The person you're trying to reach\n[04:49.90] Fuck\n[04:50.34] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Poor Thang\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: J. Cole\n  duration_ms: 290000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: So close\n  start_ms: 2030\n  end_ms: 3300\n- text: Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  start_ms: 3300\n  end_ms: 10680\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 10680\n  end_ms: 13240\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 13240\n  end_ms: 15000\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 15000\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 21160\n- text: Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  start_ms: 21160\n  end_ms: 23800\n- text: Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  start_ms: 23800\n  end_ms: 26360\n- text: If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  start_ms: 26360\n  end_ms: 28000\n- text: Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  start_ms: 28000\n  end_ms: 31680\n- text: And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  start_ms: 31680\n  end_ms: 33790\n- text: But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  start_ms: 33790\n  end_ms: 36360\n- text: The temperaturе's low\n  start_ms: 36360\n  end_ms: 37400\n- text: But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  start_ms: 37400\n  end_ms: 42080\n- text: Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  start_ms: 42080\n  end_ms: 45630\n- text: Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  start_ms: 45630\n  end_ms: 48190\n- text: Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  start_ms: 48190\n  end_ms: 49790\n- text: Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  start_ms: 49790\n  end_ms: 52470\n- text: Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  start_ms: 52470\n  end_ms: 54880\n- text: Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  start_ms: 54880\n  end_ms: 57800\n- text: My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  start_ms: 57800\n  end_ms: 60520\n- text: And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  start_ms: 60520\n  end_ms: 62870\n- text: I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  start_ms: 62870\n  end_ms: 65470\n- text: Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  start_ms: 65470\n  end_ms: 68190\n- text: Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  start_ms: 68190\n  end_ms: 70750\n- text: Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n  start_ms: 70750\n  end_ms: 73350\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 73350\n  end_ms: 75870\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 75870\n  end_ms: 78550\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 78550\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 83710\n- text: You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  start_ms: 83710\n  end_ms: 85670\n- text: You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  start_ms: 85670\n  end_ms: 88020\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  start_ms: 88020\n  end_ms: 90550\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  start_ms: 90550\n  end_ms: 93190\n- text: You wanna—\n  start_ms: 93190\n  end_ms: 93900\n- text: Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  start_ms: 93900\n  end_ms: 96500\n- text: This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  start_ms: 96500\n  end_ms: 99130\n- text: You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  start_ms: 99130\n  end_ms: 101610\n- text: You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  start_ms: 101610\n  end_ms: 104490\n- text: He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  start_ms: 104490\n  end_ms: 107180\n- text: Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  start_ms: 107180\n  end_ms: 109450\n- text: I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  start_ms: 109450\n  end_ms: 112170\n- text: When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  start_ms: 112170\n  end_ms: 115390\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  start_ms: 115390\n  end_ms: 118680\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  start_ms: 118680\n  end_ms: 121600\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  start_ms: 121600\n  end_ms: 124150\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n  start_ms: 124150\n  end_ms: 124940\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 124940\n  end_ms: 127980\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 127980\n  end_ms: 130450\n- text: Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  start_ms: 130450\n  end_ms: 133100\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 133100\n  end_ms: 135810\n- text: Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 135810\n  end_ms: 138210\n- text: Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 138210\n  end_ms: 140890\n- text: Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 140890\n  end_ms: 143370\n- text: All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 143370\n  end_ms: 146010\n- text: Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 146010\n  end_ms: 148660\n- text: I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 148660\n  end_ms: 151210\n- text: Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 151210\n  end_ms: 153890\n- text: You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 153890\n  end_ms: 156410\n- text: You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 156410\n  end_ms: 158780\n- text: And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 158780\n  end_ms: 161690\n- text: And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 161690\n  end_ms: 164290\n- text: So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 164290\n  end_ms: 167050\n- text: You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 167050\n  end_ms: 169440\n- text: You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  start_ms: 169440\n  end_ms: 171850\n- text: Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  start_ms: 171850\n  end_ms: 174530\n- text: Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  start_ms: 174530\n  end_ms: 177290\n- text: '''Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched'\n  start_ms: 177290\n  end_ms: 179640\n- text: In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  start_ms: 179640\n  end_ms: 182600\n- text: That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 182600\n  end_ms: 185210\n- text: Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 185210\n  end_ms: 187760\n- text: Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  start_ms: 187760\n  end_ms: 190360\n- text: Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 190360\n  end_ms: 192930\n- text: Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 192930\n  end_ms: 195560\n- text: And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 195560\n  end_ms: 198210\n- text: Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 198210\n  end_ms: 200850\n- text: Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  start_ms: 200850\n  end_ms: 205120\n- text: Punk bitch (Real)\n  start_ms: 205120\n  end_ms: 207970\n- text: Punk bitch, huh\n  start_ms: 207970\n  end_ms: 208730\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 208730\n  end_ms: 211670\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 211670\n  end_ms: 214190\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 214190\n  end_ms: 216750\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 216750\n  end_ms: 219470\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 219470\n  end_ms: 222070\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 222070\n  end_ms: 224590\n- text: Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  start_ms: 224590\n  end_ms: 227190\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 227190\n  end_ms: 233320\n- text: '''Cause I''ve been through lots of things'\n  start_ms: 233320\n  end_ms: 257200\n- text: Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  start_ms: 257200\n  end_ms: 261290\n- text: Hey, what's up?\n  start_ms: 261290\n  end_ms: 263780\n- text: Yo, what's good?\n  start_ms: 263780\n  end_ms: 266650\n- text: Hey\n  start_ms: 266650\n  end_ms: 268010\n- text: Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  start_ms: 268010\n  end_ms: 271290\n- text: Nah, fuck\n  start_ms: 271290\n  end_ms: 286770\n- text: Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  start_ms: 286770\n  end_ms: 288610\n- text: The person you're trying to reach\n  start_ms: 288610\n  end_ms: 289900\n- text: Fuck\n  start_ms: 289900\n  end_ms: 290340\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 290340\nplain: |\n  So close\n  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  The temperaturе's low\n  But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  You wanna—\n\n  Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n  Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n  In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  Punk bitch (Real)\n  Punk bitch, huh\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n  Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  Hey, what's up?\n  Yo, what's good?\n  Hey\n  Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  Nah, fuck\n  Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  The person you're trying to reach\n  Fuck\n"},{"id":32442373,"name":"Poor Thang","trackName":"Poor Thang","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"J. Cole – The Fall-Off","duration":290.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"So close\nBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nPicture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\nWhere niggas die over pride and live for the dough\nIf I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\nHopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\nAnd I'm conflicted with no digits to show\nBut fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\nThe temperaturе's low\nBut you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\nVicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\nPiss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\nFace, tits, for rent, owing\nFist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\nLives expire when niggas pride gets higher\nThan the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\nMy road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\nAnd tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\nI know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\nPost-traumatic stress on an immature brain\nLeaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\nNow he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nYou wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\nYou want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\nWe'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\nWe'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\nYou wanna—\n\nHere go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\nThis nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\nYou get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\nYou make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\nHe talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\nMan, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\nI know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\nWhen egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\nIt's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, live to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\nPlenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\nRent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\nWeren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\nAll of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\nGo 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\nI knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\nStarted rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\nYou more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\nYou can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\nAnd that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\nAnd you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\nSo how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\nYou a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\nYou ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\nMan, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\nMoved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\nIn the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\nThat's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\nWay before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\nHeard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\nWell, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\nGonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\nAnd don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nNah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nTryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\nPunk bitch (Real)\nPunk bitch, huh\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, get to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\nHey, what's up? Hey what's up\nHey, what's up?\nYo, what's good?\nHey\nHey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\nNah, fuck\nYour call has been forwarded to voicemail\nThe person you're trying to reach\nFuck\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.03] So close\n[00:03.30] Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n[00:10.68] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:13.24] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[00:15.00] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:18.51] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[00:21.16] Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n[00:23.80] Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n[00:26.36] If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n[00:28.00] Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n[00:31.68] And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n[00:33.79] But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n[00:36.36] The temperaturе's low\n[00:37.40] But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n[00:42.08] Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n[00:45.63] Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n[00:48.19] Face, tits, for rent, owing\n[00:49.79] Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n[00:52.47] Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n[00:54.88] Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n[00:57.80] My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n[01:00.52] And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n[01:02.87] I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n[01:05.47] Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n[01:08.19] Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n[01:10.75] Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n[01:13.35] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:15.87] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[01:18.55] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:21.07] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[01:23.71] You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n[01:25.67] You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n[01:28.02] We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n[01:30.55] We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n[01:33.19] You wanna—\n\n[01:33.90] Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n[01:36.50] This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n[01:39.13] You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n[01:41.61] You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n[01:44.49] He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n[01:47.18] Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n[01:49.45] I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n[01:52.17] When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n[01:55.39] It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n[01:58.68] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n[02:01.60] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n[02:04.15] It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n[02:04.94] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[02:07.98] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[02:10.45] Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n[02:13.10] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n[02:15.81] Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n[02:18.21] Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n[02:20.89] Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n[02:23.37] All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n[02:26.01] Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n[02:28.66] I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n[02:31.21] Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n[02:33.89] You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n[02:36.41] You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n[02:38.78] And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n[02:41.69] And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n[02:44.29] So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n[02:47.05] You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n[02:49.44] You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n[02:51.85] Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n[02:54.53] Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n[02:57.29] 'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n[02:59.64] In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n[03:02.60] That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n[03:05.21] Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n[03:07.76] Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n[03:10.36] Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n[03:12.93] Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n[03:15.56] And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:18.21] Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:20.85] Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n[03:25.12] Punk bitch (Real)\n[03:27.97] Punk bitch, huh\n\n[03:28.73] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:31.67] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[03:34.19] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:36.75] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[03:39.47] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[03:42.07] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[03:44.59] Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n[03:47.19] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n[03:53.32] 'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n[04:17.20] Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n[04:21.29] Hey, what's up?\n[04:23.78] Yo, what's good?\n[04:26.65] Hey\n[04:28.01] Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n[04:31.29] Nah, fuck\n[04:46.77] Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n[04:48.61] The person you're trying to reach\n[04:49.90] Fuck\n[04:50.34] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Poor Thang\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: J. Cole – The Fall-Off\n  duration_ms: 290000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: So close\n  start_ms: 2030\n  end_ms: 3300\n- text: Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  start_ms: 3300\n  end_ms: 10680\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 10680\n  end_ms: 13240\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 13240\n  end_ms: 15000\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 15000\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 21160\n- text: Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  start_ms: 21160\n  end_ms: 23800\n- text: Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  start_ms: 23800\n  end_ms: 26360\n- text: If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  start_ms: 26360\n  end_ms: 28000\n- text: Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  start_ms: 28000\n  end_ms: 31680\n- text: And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  start_ms: 31680\n  end_ms: 33790\n- text: But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  start_ms: 33790\n  end_ms: 36360\n- text: The temperaturе's low\n  start_ms: 36360\n  end_ms: 37400\n- text: But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  start_ms: 37400\n  end_ms: 42080\n- text: Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  start_ms: 42080\n  end_ms: 45630\n- text: Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  start_ms: 45630\n  end_ms: 48190\n- text: Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  start_ms: 48190\n  end_ms: 49790\n- text: Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  start_ms: 49790\n  end_ms: 52470\n- text: Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  start_ms: 52470\n  end_ms: 54880\n- text: Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  start_ms: 54880\n  end_ms: 57800\n- text: My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  start_ms: 57800\n  end_ms: 60520\n- text: And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  start_ms: 60520\n  end_ms: 62870\n- text: I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  start_ms: 62870\n  end_ms: 65470\n- text: Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  start_ms: 65470\n  end_ms: 68190\n- text: Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  start_ms: 68190\n  end_ms: 70750\n- text: Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n  start_ms: 70750\n  end_ms: 73350\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 73350\n  end_ms: 75870\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 75870\n  end_ms: 78550\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 78550\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 83710\n- text: You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  start_ms: 83710\n  end_ms: 85670\n- text: You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  start_ms: 85670\n  end_ms: 88020\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  start_ms: 88020\n  end_ms: 90550\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  start_ms: 90550\n  end_ms: 93190\n- text: You wanna—\n  start_ms: 93190\n  end_ms: 93900\n- text: Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  start_ms: 93900\n  end_ms: 96500\n- text: This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  start_ms: 96500\n  end_ms: 99130\n- text: You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  start_ms: 99130\n  end_ms: 101610\n- text: You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  start_ms: 101610\n  end_ms: 104490\n- text: He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  start_ms: 104490\n  end_ms: 107180\n- text: Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  start_ms: 107180\n  end_ms: 109450\n- text: I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  start_ms: 109450\n  end_ms: 112170\n- text: When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  start_ms: 112170\n  end_ms: 115390\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  start_ms: 115390\n  end_ms: 118680\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  start_ms: 118680\n  end_ms: 121600\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  start_ms: 121600\n  end_ms: 124150\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n  start_ms: 124150\n  end_ms: 124940\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 124940\n  end_ms: 127980\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 127980\n  end_ms: 130450\n- text: Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  start_ms: 130450\n  end_ms: 133100\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 133100\n  end_ms: 135810\n- text: Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 135810\n  end_ms: 138210\n- text: Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 138210\n  end_ms: 140890\n- text: Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 140890\n  end_ms: 143370\n- text: All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 143370\n  end_ms: 146010\n- text: Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 146010\n  end_ms: 148660\n- text: I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 148660\n  end_ms: 151210\n- text: Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 151210\n  end_ms: 153890\n- text: You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 153890\n  end_ms: 156410\n- text: You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 156410\n  end_ms: 158780\n- text: And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 158780\n  end_ms: 161690\n- text: And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 161690\n  end_ms: 164290\n- text: So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 164290\n  end_ms: 167050\n- text: You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 167050\n  end_ms: 169440\n- text: You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  start_ms: 169440\n  end_ms: 171850\n- text: Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  start_ms: 171850\n  end_ms: 174530\n- text: Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  start_ms: 174530\n  end_ms: 177290\n- text: '''Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched'\n  start_ms: 177290\n  end_ms: 179640\n- text: In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  start_ms: 179640\n  end_ms: 182600\n- text: That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 182600\n  end_ms: 185210\n- text: Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 185210\n  end_ms: 187760\n- text: Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  start_ms: 187760\n  end_ms: 190360\n- text: Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 190360\n  end_ms: 192930\n- text: Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 192930\n  end_ms: 195560\n- text: And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 195560\n  end_ms: 198210\n- text: Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 198210\n  end_ms: 200850\n- text: Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  start_ms: 200850\n  end_ms: 205120\n- text: Punk bitch (Real)\n  start_ms: 205120\n  end_ms: 207970\n- text: Punk bitch, huh\n  start_ms: 207970\n  end_ms: 208730\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 208730\n  end_ms: 211670\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 211670\n  end_ms: 214190\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 214190\n  end_ms: 216750\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 216750\n  end_ms: 219470\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 219470\n  end_ms: 222070\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 222070\n  end_ms: 224590\n- text: Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  start_ms: 224590\n  end_ms: 227190\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 227190\n  end_ms: 233320\n- text: '''Cause I''ve been through lots of things'\n  start_ms: 233320\n  end_ms: 257200\n- text: Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  start_ms: 257200\n  end_ms: 261290\n- text: Hey, what's up?\n  start_ms: 261290\n  end_ms: 263780\n- text: Yo, what's good?\n  start_ms: 263780\n  end_ms: 266650\n- text: Hey\n  start_ms: 266650\n  end_ms: 268010\n- text: Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  start_ms: 268010\n  end_ms: 271290\n- text: Nah, fuck\n  start_ms: 271290\n  end_ms: 286770\n- text: Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  start_ms: 286770\n  end_ms: 288610\n- text: The person you're trying to reach\n  start_ms: 288610\n  end_ms: 289900\n- text: Fuck\n  start_ms: 289900\n  end_ms: 290340\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 290340\nplain: |\n  So close\n  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  The temperaturе's low\n  But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  You wanna—\n\n  Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n  Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n  In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  Punk bitch (Real)\n  Punk bitch, huh\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n  Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  Hey, what's up?\n  Yo, what's good?\n  Hey\n  Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  Nah, fuck\n  Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  The person you're trying to reach\n  Fuck\n"},{"id":34011348,"name":"J. Cole - Poor Thang (Official Audio)","trackName":"J. Cole - Poor Thang (Official Audio)","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"The Fall-Off","duration":291.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"So close\nBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\nBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nPicture my soul climbin' outta infinite hole\nWhere niggas die over pride and live for the dough\nIf I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\nHopin' these waves'll pave, but the ripples is slow\n\nAnd I'm conflicted with no digits to show\nBut fantasies of frivolous hos grippin' this pole\nThe temperature's low\nBut you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on the whip in the snow\n\nVicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\nPiss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\nFace, tits, for rent, owin'\nFist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n\nLives expire when niggas pride gets higher\nThan the vocal range inside Mariah's vocal chain, uh\nMy road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\nAnd tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n\nI know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\nPost-traumatic stress on an immature brain\nLeaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\nNow he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nYou wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\nYou want some gangsta's front yo' motherfuckin' house?\nWe'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\nWe'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (set), you wanna\n\nHere go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\nThis nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\nYou get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\nYou make you some coins, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n\nHe talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\nMan, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\nI know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\nWhen egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (put your hands up)\n\nIt's when they close the curtain (put your motherfu-)\nIt's when they close the curtain (you pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (you pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (you gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, live to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\nPlenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\nRent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\nWeren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\nAll of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n\nGo 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\nI knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\nStarted rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\nYou more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n\nYou can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\nAnd that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\nAnd you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\nSo how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n\nYou a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\nYou ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\nMan, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\nMoved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n\n'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\nIn the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\nThat's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\nWay before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n\nHeard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\nWell, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\nGonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\nAnd don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n\nNah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nTryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('cause I've been through lots of things)\nPunk bitch (real)\nPunk bitch, huh\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, get to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n'Cause I've been through worser things\n\nAy, what's up? Ay, what's up\nAy, what's up?\nYo, what's good?\nHey, ay, what's up? What's up, how you been? Nah, fuck\n\nYour call has been forwarded to voicemail\nThe person you're tryin' to reach (fuck)","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.16] So close\n[00:03.62] Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n[00:06.55] Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n[00:10.43] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:13.52] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[00:15.84] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:18.70] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[00:21.00] Picture my soul climbin' outta infinite hole\n[00:23.71] Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n[00:26.62] If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n[00:29.33] Hopin' these waves'll pave, but the ripples is slow\n[00:31.79] And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n[00:34.08] But fantasies of frivolous hos grippin' this pole\n[00:36.57] The temperature's low\n[00:37.75] But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on the whip in the snow\n[00:42.10] Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n[00:45.63] Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n[00:48.54] Face, tits, for rent, owin'\n[00:49.96] Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n[00:52.69] Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n[00:54.78] Than the vocal range inside Mariah's vocal chain, uh\n[00:57.60] My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n[01:00.39] And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n[01:03.06] I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n[01:05.54] Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n[01:08.29] Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n[01:10.50] Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n[01:12.93] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:15.60] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[01:18.36] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:21.09] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[01:23.57] You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n[01:25.79] You want some gangsta's front yo' motherfuckin' house?\n[01:28.24] We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n[01:30.70] We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (set), you wanna\n[01:34.01] Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n[01:36.59] This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n[01:39.61] You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n[01:41.72] You make you some coins, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n[01:44.20] He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n[01:46.93] Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n[01:49.45] I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n[01:52.10] When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (put your hands up)\n[01:55.62] It's when they close the curtain (put your motherfu-)\n[01:58.72] It's when they close the curtain (you pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n[02:02.45] It's when they close the curtain (you pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n[02:05.12] It's when they close the curtain (you gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n[02:07.46] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[02:08.41] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[02:10.59] Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n[02:13.05] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n[02:15.68] Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n[02:17.99] Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n[02:20.65] Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n[02:23.34] All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n[02:25.84] Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n[02:28.34] I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n[02:31.04] Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n[02:33.58] You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n[02:36.15] You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n[02:38.61] And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n[02:41.37] And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n[02:44.02] So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n[02:46.52] You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n[02:49.04] You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n[02:51.76] Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n[02:54.47] Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n[02:57.39] 'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n[02:59.78] In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n[03:02.42] That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n[03:04.92] Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n[03:07.68] Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n[03:10.18] Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n[03:12.80] Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n[03:15.30] And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:18.46] Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:20.83] Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('cause I've been through lots of things)\n[03:25.66] Punk bitch (real)\n[03:26.12] Punk bitch, huh\n[03:29.05] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:31.75] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[03:33.88] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:36.97] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[03:39.26] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[03:41.57] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[03:44.26] Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n[03:46.82] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n[03:53.71] 'Cause I've been through worser things\n[04:17.75] Ay, what's up? Ay, what's up\n[04:21.05] Ay, what's up?\n[04:23.58] Yo, what's good?\n[04:26.65] Hey, ay, what's up? What's up, how you been? Nah, fuck\n[04:46.80] Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n[04:49.22] The person you're tryin' to reach (fuck)\n[04:50.18] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: J. Cole - Poor Thang (Official Audio)\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: The Fall-Off\n  duration_ms: 291000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: So close\n  start_ms: 2160\n  end_ms: 3620\n- text: Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  start_ms: 3620\n  end_ms: 6550\n- text: Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  start_ms: 6550\n  end_ms: 10430\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 10430\n  end_ms: 13520\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 13520\n  end_ms: 15840\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 15840\n  end_ms: 18700\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 18700\n  end_ms: 21000\n- text: Picture my soul climbin' outta infinite hole\n  start_ms: 21000\n  end_ms: 23710\n- text: Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  start_ms: 23710\n  end_ms: 26620\n- text: If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  start_ms: 26620\n  end_ms: 29330\n- text: Hopin' these waves'll pave, but the ripples is slow\n  start_ms: 29330\n  end_ms: 31790\n- text: And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  start_ms: 31790\n  end_ms: 34080\n- text: But fantasies of frivolous hos grippin' this pole\n  start_ms: 34080\n  end_ms: 36570\n- text: The temperature's low\n  start_ms: 36570\n  end_ms: 37750\n- text: But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on the whip in the snow\n  start_ms: 37750\n  end_ms: 42100\n- text: Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  start_ms: 42100\n  end_ms: 45630\n- text: Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  start_ms: 45630\n  end_ms: 48540\n- text: Face, tits, for rent, owin'\n  start_ms: 48540\n  end_ms: 49960\n- text: Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  start_ms: 49960\n  end_ms: 52690\n- text: Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  start_ms: 52690\n  end_ms: 54780\n- text: Than the vocal range inside Mariah's vocal chain, uh\n  start_ms: 54780\n  end_ms: 57600\n- text: My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  start_ms: 57600\n  end_ms: 60390\n- text: And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  start_ms: 60390\n  end_ms: 63060\n- text: I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  start_ms: 63060\n  end_ms: 65540\n- text: Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  start_ms: 65540\n  end_ms: 68290\n- text: Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  start_ms: 68290\n  end_ms: 70500\n- text: Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n  start_ms: 70500\n  end_ms: 72930\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 72930\n  end_ms: 75600\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 75600\n  end_ms: 78360\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 78360\n  end_ms: 81090\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 81090\n  end_ms: 83570\n- text: You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  start_ms: 83570\n  end_ms: 85790\n- text: You want some gangsta's front yo' motherfuckin' house?\n  start_ms: 85790\n  end_ms: 88240\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  start_ms: 88240\n  end_ms: 90700\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (set), you wanna\n  start_ms: 90700\n  end_ms: 94010\n- text: Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  start_ms: 94010\n  end_ms: 96590\n- text: This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  start_ms: 96590\n  end_ms: 99610\n- text: You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  start_ms: 99610\n  end_ms: 101720\n- text: You make you some coins, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  start_ms: 101720\n  end_ms: 104200\n- text: He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  start_ms: 104200\n  end_ms: 106930\n- text: Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  start_ms: 106930\n  end_ms: 109450\n- text: I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  start_ms: 109450\n  end_ms: 112100\n- text: When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (put your hands up)\n  start_ms: 112100\n  end_ms: 115620\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (put your motherfu-)\n  start_ms: 115620\n  end_ms: 118720\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (you pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  start_ms: 118720\n  end_ms: 122450\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (you pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  start_ms: 122450\n  end_ms: 125120\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (you gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n  start_ms: 125120\n  end_ms: 127460\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 127460\n  end_ms: 128410\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 128410\n  end_ms: 130590\n- text: Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  start_ms: 130590\n  end_ms: 133050\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 133050\n  end_ms: 135680\n- text: Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 135680\n  end_ms: 137990\n- text: Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 137990\n  end_ms: 140650\n- text: Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 140650\n  end_ms: 143340\n- text: All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 143340\n  end_ms: 145840\n- text: Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 145840\n  end_ms: 148340\n- text: I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 148340\n  end_ms: 151040\n- text: Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 151040\n  end_ms: 153580\n- text: You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 153580\n  end_ms: 156150\n- text: You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 156150\n  end_ms: 158610\n- text: And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 158610\n  end_ms: 161370\n- text: And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 161370\n  end_ms: 164020\n- text: So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 164020\n  end_ms: 166520\n- text: You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 166520\n  end_ms: 169040\n- text: You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  start_ms: 169040\n  end_ms: 171760\n- text: Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  start_ms: 171760\n  end_ms: 174470\n- text: Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  start_ms: 174470\n  end_ms: 177390\n- text: '''Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched'\n  start_ms: 177390\n  end_ms: 179780\n- text: In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  start_ms: 179780\n  end_ms: 182420\n- text: That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 182420\n  end_ms: 184920\n- text: Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 184920\n  end_ms: 187680\n- text: Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  start_ms: 187680\n  end_ms: 190180\n- text: Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 190180\n  end_ms: 192800\n- text: Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 192800\n  end_ms: 195300\n- text: And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 195300\n  end_ms: 198460\n- text: Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 198460\n  end_ms: 200830\n- text: Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('cause I've been through lots of things)\n  start_ms: 200830\n  end_ms: 205660\n- text: Punk bitch (real)\n  start_ms: 205660\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: Punk bitch, huh\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 209050\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 209050\n  end_ms: 211750\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 211750\n  end_ms: 213880\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 213880\n  end_ms: 216970\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 216970\n  end_ms: 219260\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 219260\n  end_ms: 221570\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 221570\n  end_ms: 224260\n- text: Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  start_ms: 224260\n  end_ms: 226820\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 226820\n  end_ms: 233710\n- text: '''Cause I''ve been through worser things'\n  start_ms: 233710\n  end_ms: 257750\n- text: Ay, what's up? Ay, what's up\n  start_ms: 257750\n  end_ms: 261050\n- text: Ay, what's up?\n  start_ms: 261050\n  end_ms: 263580\n- text: Yo, what's good?\n  start_ms: 263580\n  end_ms: 266650\n- text: Hey, ay, what's up? What's up, how you been? Nah, fuck\n  start_ms: 266650\n  end_ms: 286800\n- text: Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  start_ms: 286800\n  end_ms: 289220\n- text: The person you're tryin' to reach (fuck)\n  start_ms: 289220\n  end_ms: 290180\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 290180\nplain: |-\n  So close\n  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Picture my soul climbin' outta infinite hole\n  Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  Hopin' these waves'll pave, but the ripples is slow\n\n  And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  But fantasies of frivolous hos grippin' this pole\n  The temperature's low\n  But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on the whip in the snow\n\n  Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  Face, tits, for rent, owin'\n  Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n\n  Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  Than the vocal range inside Mariah's vocal chain, uh\n  My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n\n  I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  You want some gangsta's front yo' motherfuckin' house?\n  We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (set), you wanna\n\n  Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  You make you some coins, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n\n  He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (put your hands up)\n\n  It's when they close the curtain (put your motherfu-)\n  It's when they close the curtain (you pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (you pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (you gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n  Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n\n  Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n\n  You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n\n  You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n\n  'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n  In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n\n  Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n\n  Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('cause I've been through lots of things)\n  Punk bitch (real)\n  Punk bitch, huh\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  'Cause I've been through worser things\n\n  Ay, what's up? Ay, what's up\n  Ay, what's up?\n  Yo, what's good?\n  Hey, ay, what's up? What's up, how you been? Nah, fuck\n\n  Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  The person you're tryin' to reach (fuck)\n"},{"id":30675967,"name":"Poor Thang","trackName":"Poor Thang","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"The Fall-Off","duration":243.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"So close\nBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nPicture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\nWhere niggas die over pride and live for the dough\nIf I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\nHopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\nAnd I'm conflicted with no digits to show\nBut fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\nThe temperaturе's low\nBut you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\nVicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\nPiss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\nFace, tits, for rent, owing\nFist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\nLives expire when niggas pride gets higher\nThan the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\nMy road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\nAnd tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\nI know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\nPost-traumatic stress on an immature brain\nLeaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\nNow he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nYou wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\nYou want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\nWe'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\nWe'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\nYou wanna—\n\nHere go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\nThis nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\nYou get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\nYou make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\nHe talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\nMan, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\nI know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\nWhen egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\nIt's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, live to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\nPlenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\nRent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\nWeren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\nAll of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\nGo 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\nI knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\nStarted rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\nYou more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\nYou can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\nAnd that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\nAnd you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\nSo how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\nYou a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\nYou ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\nMan, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\nMoved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\nIn the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\nThat's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\nWay before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\nHeard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\nWell, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\nGonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\nAnd don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nNah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nTryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\nPunk bitch (Real)\nPunk bitch, huh\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, get to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\nHey, what's up? Hey what's up\nHey, what's up?\nYo, what's good?\nHey\nHey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\nNah, fuck\nYour call has been forwarded to voicemail\nThe person you're trying to reach\nFuck\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.03] So close\n[00:03.30] Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n[00:10.68] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:13.24] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[00:15.00] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:18.51] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[00:21.16] Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n[00:23.80] Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n[00:26.36] If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n[00:28.00] Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n[00:31.68] And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n[00:33.79] But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n[00:36.36] The temperaturе's low\n[00:37.40] But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n[00:42.08] Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n[00:45.63] Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n[00:48.19] Face, tits, for rent, owing\n[00:49.79] Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n[00:52.47] Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n[00:54.88] Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n[00:57.80] My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n[01:00.52] And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n[01:02.87] I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n[01:05.47] Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n[01:08.19] Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n[01:10.75] Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n[01:13.35] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:15.87] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[01:18.55] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:21.07] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[01:23.71] You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n[01:25.67] You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n[01:28.02] We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n[01:30.55] We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n[01:33.19] You wanna—\n\n[01:33.90] Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n[01:36.50] This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n[01:39.13] You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n[01:41.61] You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n[01:44.49] He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n[01:47.18] Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n[01:49.45] I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n[01:52.17] When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n[01:55.39] It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n[01:58.68] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n[02:01.60] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n[02:04.15] It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n[02:04.94] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[02:07.98] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[02:10.45] Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n[02:13.10] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n[02:15.81] Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n[02:18.21] Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n[02:20.89] Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n[02:23.37] All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n[02:26.01] Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n[02:28.66] I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n[02:31.21] Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n[02:33.89] You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n[02:36.41] You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n[02:38.78] And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n[02:41.69] And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n[02:44.29] So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n[02:47.05] You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n[02:49.44] You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n[02:51.85] Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n[02:54.53] Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n[02:57.29] 'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n[02:59.64] In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n[03:02.60] That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n[03:05.21] Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n[03:07.76] Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n[03:10.36] Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n[03:12.93] Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n[03:15.56] And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:18.21] Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:20.85] Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n[03:25.12] Punk bitch (Real)\n[03:27.97] Punk bitch, huh\n\n[03:28.73] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:31.67] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[03:34.19] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:36.75] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[03:39.47] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[03:42.07] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[03:44.59] Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n[03:47.19] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n[03:53.32] 'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n[04:17.20] Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n[04:21.29] Hey, what's up?\n[04:23.78] Yo, what's good?\n[04:26.65] Hey\n[04:28.01] Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n[04:31.29] Nah, fuck\n[04:46.77] Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n[04:48.61] The person you're trying to reach\n[04:49.90] Fuck\n[04:50.34] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Poor Thang\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: The Fall-Off\n  duration_ms: 243000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: So close\n  start_ms: 2030\n  end_ms: 3300\n- text: Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  start_ms: 3300\n  end_ms: 10680\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 10680\n  end_ms: 13240\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 13240\n  end_ms: 15000\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 15000\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 21160\n- text: Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  start_ms: 21160\n  end_ms: 23800\n- text: Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  start_ms: 23800\n  end_ms: 26360\n- text: If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  start_ms: 26360\n  end_ms: 28000\n- text: Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  start_ms: 28000\n  end_ms: 31680\n- text: And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  start_ms: 31680\n  end_ms: 33790\n- text: But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  start_ms: 33790\n  end_ms: 36360\n- text: The temperaturе's low\n  start_ms: 36360\n  end_ms: 37400\n- text: But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  start_ms: 37400\n  end_ms: 42080\n- text: Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  start_ms: 42080\n  end_ms: 45630\n- text: Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  start_ms: 45630\n  end_ms: 48190\n- text: Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  start_ms: 48190\n  end_ms: 49790\n- text: Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  start_ms: 49790\n  end_ms: 52470\n- text: Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  start_ms: 52470\n  end_ms: 54880\n- text: Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  start_ms: 54880\n  end_ms: 57800\n- text: My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  start_ms: 57800\n  end_ms: 60520\n- text: And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  start_ms: 60520\n  end_ms: 62870\n- text: I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  start_ms: 62870\n  end_ms: 65470\n- text: Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  start_ms: 65470\n  end_ms: 68190\n- text: Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  start_ms: 68190\n  end_ms: 70750\n- text: Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n  start_ms: 70750\n  end_ms: 73350\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 73350\n  end_ms: 75870\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 75870\n  end_ms: 78550\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 78550\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 83710\n- text: You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  start_ms: 83710\n  end_ms: 85670\n- text: You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  start_ms: 85670\n  end_ms: 88020\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  start_ms: 88020\n  end_ms: 90550\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  start_ms: 90550\n  end_ms: 93190\n- text: You wanna—\n  start_ms: 93190\n  end_ms: 93900\n- text: Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  start_ms: 93900\n  end_ms: 96500\n- text: This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  start_ms: 96500\n  end_ms: 99130\n- text: You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  start_ms: 99130\n  end_ms: 101610\n- text: You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  start_ms: 101610\n  end_ms: 104490\n- text: He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  start_ms: 104490\n  end_ms: 107180\n- text: Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  start_ms: 107180\n  end_ms: 109450\n- text: I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  start_ms: 109450\n  end_ms: 112170\n- text: When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  start_ms: 112170\n  end_ms: 115390\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  start_ms: 115390\n  end_ms: 118680\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  start_ms: 118680\n  end_ms: 121600\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  start_ms: 121600\n  end_ms: 124150\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n  start_ms: 124150\n  end_ms: 124940\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 124940\n  end_ms: 127980\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 127980\n  end_ms: 130450\n- text: Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  start_ms: 130450\n  end_ms: 133100\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 133100\n  end_ms: 135810\n- text: Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 135810\n  end_ms: 138210\n- text: Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 138210\n  end_ms: 140890\n- text: Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 140890\n  end_ms: 143370\n- text: All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 143370\n  end_ms: 146010\n- text: Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 146010\n  end_ms: 148660\n- text: I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 148660\n  end_ms: 151210\n- text: Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 151210\n  end_ms: 153890\n- text: You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 153890\n  end_ms: 156410\n- text: You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 156410\n  end_ms: 158780\n- text: And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 158780\n  end_ms: 161690\n- text: And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 161690\n  end_ms: 164290\n- text: So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 164290\n  end_ms: 167050\n- text: You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 167050\n  end_ms: 169440\n- text: You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  start_ms: 169440\n  end_ms: 171850\n- text: Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  start_ms: 171850\n  end_ms: 174530\n- text: Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  start_ms: 174530\n  end_ms: 177290\n- text: '''Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched'\n  start_ms: 177290\n  end_ms: 179640\n- text: In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  start_ms: 179640\n  end_ms: 182600\n- text: That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 182600\n  end_ms: 185210\n- text: Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 185210\n  end_ms: 187760\n- text: Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  start_ms: 187760\n  end_ms: 190360\n- text: Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 190360\n  end_ms: 192930\n- text: Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 192930\n  end_ms: 195560\n- text: And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 195560\n  end_ms: 198210\n- text: Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 198210\n  end_ms: 200850\n- text: Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  start_ms: 200850\n  end_ms: 205120\n- text: Punk bitch (Real)\n  start_ms: 205120\n  end_ms: 207970\n- text: Punk bitch, huh\n  start_ms: 207970\n  end_ms: 208730\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 208730\n  end_ms: 211670\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 211670\n  end_ms: 214190\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 214190\n  end_ms: 216750\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 216750\n  end_ms: 219470\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 219470\n  end_ms: 222070\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 222070\n  end_ms: 224590\n- text: Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  start_ms: 224590\n  end_ms: 227190\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 227190\n  end_ms: 233320\n- text: '''Cause I''ve been through lots of things'\n  start_ms: 233320\n  end_ms: 257200\n- text: Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  start_ms: 257200\n  end_ms: 261290\n- text: Hey, what's up?\n  start_ms: 261290\n  end_ms: 263780\n- text: Yo, what's good?\n  start_ms: 263780\n  end_ms: 266650\n- text: Hey\n  start_ms: 266650\n  end_ms: 268010\n- text: Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  start_ms: 268010\n  end_ms: 271290\n- text: Nah, fuck\n  start_ms: 271290\n  end_ms: 286770\n- text: Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  start_ms: 286770\n  end_ms: 288610\n- text: The person you're trying to reach\n  start_ms: 288610\n  end_ms: 289900\n- text: Fuck\n  start_ms: 289900\n  end_ms: 290340\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 290340\nplain: |\n  So close\n  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  The temperaturе's low\n  But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  You wanna—\n\n  Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n  Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n  In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  Punk bitch (Real)\n  Punk bitch, huh\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n  Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  Hey, what's up?\n  Yo, what's good?\n  Hey\n  Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  Nah, fuck\n  Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  The person you're trying to reach\n  Fuck\n"},{"id":30791554,"name":"poor thang","trackName":"poor thang","artistName":"j cole","albumName":"the falloff","duration":291.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"So close\nBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nPicture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\nWhere niggas die over pride and live for the dough\nIf I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\nHopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\nAnd I'm conflicted with no digits to show\nBut fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\nThe temperaturе's low\nBut you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\nVicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\nPiss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\nFace, tits, for rent, owing\nFist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\nLives expire when niggas pride gets higher\nThan the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\nMy road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\nAnd tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\nI know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\nPost-traumatic stress on an immature brain\nLeaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\nNow he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nYou wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\nYou want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\nWe'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\nWe'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\nYou wanna—\n\nHere go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\nThis nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\nYou get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\nYou make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\nHe talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\nMan, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\nI know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\nWhen egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\nIt's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, live to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\nPlenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\nRent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\nWeren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\nAll of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\nGo 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\nI knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\nStarted rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\nYou more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\nYou can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\nAnd that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\nAnd you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\nSo how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\nYou a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\nYou ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\nMan, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\nMoved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\nIn the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\nThat's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\nWay before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\nHeard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\nWell, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\nGonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\nAnd don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nNah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nTryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\nPunk bitch (Real)\nPunk bitch, huh\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, get to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\nHey, what's up? Hey what's up\nHey, what's up?\nYo, what's good?\nHey\nHey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\nNah, fuck\nYour call has been forwarded to voicemail\nThe person you're trying to reach\nFuck\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.03] So close\n[00:03.30] Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n[00:10.68] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:13.24] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[00:15.00] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:18.51] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[00:21.16] Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n[00:23.80] Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n[00:26.36] If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n[00:28.00] Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n[00:31.68] And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n[00:33.79] But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n[00:36.36] The temperaturе's low\n[00:37.40] But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n[00:42.08] Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n[00:45.63] Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n[00:48.19] Face, tits, for rent, owing\n[00:49.79] Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n[00:52.47] Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n[00:54.88] Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n[00:57.80] My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n[01:00.52] And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n[01:02.87] I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n[01:05.47] Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n[01:08.19] Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n[01:10.75] Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n[01:13.35] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:15.87] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[01:18.55] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:21.07] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[01:23.71] You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n[01:25.67] You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n[01:28.02] We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n[01:30.55] We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n[01:33.19] You wanna—\n\n[01:33.90] Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n[01:36.50] This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n[01:39.13] You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n[01:41.61] You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n[01:44.49] He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n[01:47.18] Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n[01:49.45] I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n[01:52.17] When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n[01:55.39] It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n[01:58.68] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n[02:01.60] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n[02:04.15] It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n[02:04.94] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[02:07.98] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[02:10.45] Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n[02:13.10] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n[02:15.81] Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n[02:18.21] Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n[02:20.89] Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n[02:23.37] All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n[02:26.01] Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n[02:28.66] I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n[02:31.21] Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n[02:33.89] You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n[02:36.41] You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n[02:38.78] And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n[02:41.69] And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n[02:44.29] So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n[02:47.05] You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n[02:49.44] You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n[02:51.85] Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n[02:54.53] Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n[02:57.29] 'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n[02:59.64] In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n[03:02.60] That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n[03:05.21] Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n[03:07.76] Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n[03:10.36] Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n[03:12.93] Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n[03:15.56] And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:18.21] Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:20.85] Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n[03:25.12] Punk bitch (Real)\n[03:27.97] Punk bitch, huh\n\n[03:28.73] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:31.67] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[03:34.19] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:36.75] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[03:39.47] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[03:42.07] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[03:44.59] Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n[03:47.19] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n[03:53.32] 'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n[04:17.20] Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n[04:21.29] Hey, what's up?\n[04:23.78] Yo, what's good?\n[04:26.65] Hey\n[04:28.01] Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n[04:31.29] Nah, fuck\n[04:46.77] Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n[04:48.61] The person you're trying to reach\n[04:49.90] Fuck\n[04:50.34] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: poor thang\n  artist: j cole\n  album: the falloff\n  duration_ms: 291000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: So close\n  start_ms: 2030\n  end_ms: 3300\n- text: Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  start_ms: 3300\n  end_ms: 10680\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 10680\n  end_ms: 13240\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 13240\n  end_ms: 15000\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 15000\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 21160\n- text: Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  start_ms: 21160\n  end_ms: 23800\n- text: Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  start_ms: 23800\n  end_ms: 26360\n- text: If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  start_ms: 26360\n  end_ms: 28000\n- text: Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  start_ms: 28000\n  end_ms: 31680\n- text: And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  start_ms: 31680\n  end_ms: 33790\n- text: But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  start_ms: 33790\n  end_ms: 36360\n- text: The temperaturе's low\n  start_ms: 36360\n  end_ms: 37400\n- text: But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  start_ms: 37400\n  end_ms: 42080\n- text: Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  start_ms: 42080\n  end_ms: 45630\n- text: Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  start_ms: 45630\n  end_ms: 48190\n- text: Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  start_ms: 48190\n  end_ms: 49790\n- text: Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  start_ms: 49790\n  end_ms: 52470\n- text: Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  start_ms: 52470\n  end_ms: 54880\n- text: Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  start_ms: 54880\n  end_ms: 57800\n- text: My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  start_ms: 57800\n  end_ms: 60520\n- text: And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  start_ms: 60520\n  end_ms: 62870\n- text: I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  start_ms: 62870\n  end_ms: 65470\n- text: Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  start_ms: 65470\n  end_ms: 68190\n- text: Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  start_ms: 68190\n  end_ms: 70750\n- text: Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n  start_ms: 70750\n  end_ms: 73350\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 73350\n  end_ms: 75870\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 75870\n  end_ms: 78550\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 78550\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 83710\n- text: You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  start_ms: 83710\n  end_ms: 85670\n- text: You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  start_ms: 85670\n  end_ms: 88020\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  start_ms: 88020\n  end_ms: 90550\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  start_ms: 90550\n  end_ms: 93190\n- text: You wanna—\n  start_ms: 93190\n  end_ms: 93900\n- text: Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  start_ms: 93900\n  end_ms: 96500\n- text: This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  start_ms: 96500\n  end_ms: 99130\n- text: You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  start_ms: 99130\n  end_ms: 101610\n- text: You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  start_ms: 101610\n  end_ms: 104490\n- text: He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  start_ms: 104490\n  end_ms: 107180\n- text: Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  start_ms: 107180\n  end_ms: 109450\n- text: I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  start_ms: 109450\n  end_ms: 112170\n- text: When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  start_ms: 112170\n  end_ms: 115390\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  start_ms: 115390\n  end_ms: 118680\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  start_ms: 118680\n  end_ms: 121600\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  start_ms: 121600\n  end_ms: 124150\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n  start_ms: 124150\n  end_ms: 124940\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 124940\n  end_ms: 127980\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 127980\n  end_ms: 130450\n- text: Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  start_ms: 130450\n  end_ms: 133100\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 133100\n  end_ms: 135810\n- text: Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 135810\n  end_ms: 138210\n- text: Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 138210\n  end_ms: 140890\n- text: Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 140890\n  end_ms: 143370\n- text: All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 143370\n  end_ms: 146010\n- text: Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 146010\n  end_ms: 148660\n- text: I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 148660\n  end_ms: 151210\n- text: Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 151210\n  end_ms: 153890\n- text: You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 153890\n  end_ms: 156410\n- text: You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 156410\n  end_ms: 158780\n- text: And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 158780\n  end_ms: 161690\n- text: And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 161690\n  end_ms: 164290\n- text: So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 164290\n  end_ms: 167050\n- text: You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 167050\n  end_ms: 169440\n- text: You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  start_ms: 169440\n  end_ms: 171850\n- text: Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  start_ms: 171850\n  end_ms: 174530\n- text: Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  start_ms: 174530\n  end_ms: 177290\n- text: '''Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched'\n  start_ms: 177290\n  end_ms: 179640\n- text: In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  start_ms: 179640\n  end_ms: 182600\n- text: That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 182600\n  end_ms: 185210\n- text: Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 185210\n  end_ms: 187760\n- text: Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  start_ms: 187760\n  end_ms: 190360\n- text: Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 190360\n  end_ms: 192930\n- text: Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 192930\n  end_ms: 195560\n- text: And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 195560\n  end_ms: 198210\n- text: Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 198210\n  end_ms: 200850\n- text: Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  start_ms: 200850\n  end_ms: 205120\n- text: Punk bitch (Real)\n  start_ms: 205120\n  end_ms: 207970\n- text: Punk bitch, huh\n  start_ms: 207970\n  end_ms: 208730\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 208730\n  end_ms: 211670\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 211670\n  end_ms: 214190\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 214190\n  end_ms: 216750\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 216750\n  end_ms: 219470\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 219470\n  end_ms: 222070\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 222070\n  end_ms: 224590\n- text: Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  start_ms: 224590\n  end_ms: 227190\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 227190\n  end_ms: 233320\n- text: '''Cause I''ve been through lots of things'\n  start_ms: 233320\n  end_ms: 257200\n- text: Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  start_ms: 257200\n  end_ms: 261290\n- text: Hey, what's up?\n  start_ms: 261290\n  end_ms: 263780\n- text: Yo, what's good?\n  start_ms: 263780\n  end_ms: 266650\n- text: Hey\n  start_ms: 266650\n  end_ms: 268010\n- text: Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  start_ms: 268010\n  end_ms: 271290\n- text: Nah, fuck\n  start_ms: 271290\n  end_ms: 286770\n- text: Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  start_ms: 286770\n  end_ms: 288610\n- text: The person you're trying to reach\n  start_ms: 288610\n  end_ms: 289900\n- text: Fuck\n  start_ms: 289900\n  end_ms: 290340\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 290340\nplain: |\n  So close\n  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  The temperaturе's low\n  But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  You wanna—\n\n  Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n  Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n  In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  Punk bitch (Real)\n  Punk bitch, huh\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n  Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  Hey, what's up?\n  Yo, what's good?\n  Hey\n  Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  Nah, fuck\n  Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  The person you're trying to reach\n  Fuck\n"},{"id":29815156,"name":"Poor Thang","trackName":"Poor Thang","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"The Fall-Off","duration":170.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"So close\nBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nPicture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\nWhere niggas die over pride and live for the dough\nIf I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\nHopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\nAnd I'm conflicted with no digits to show\nBut fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\nThe temperaturе's low\nBut you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\nVicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\nPiss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\nFace, tits, for rent, owing\nFist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\nLives expire when niggas pride gets higher\nThan the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\nMy road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\nAnd tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\nI know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\nPost-traumatic stress on an immature brain\nLeaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\nNow he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nYou wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\nYou want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\nWe'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\nWe'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\nYou wanna—\n\nHere go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\nThis nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\nYou get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\nYou make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\nHe talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\nMan, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\nI know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\nWhen egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\nIt's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, live to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\nPlenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\nRent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\nWeren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\nAll of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\nGo 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\nI knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\nStarted rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\nYou more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\nYou can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\nAnd that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\nAnd you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\nSo how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\nYou a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\nYou ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\nMan, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\nMoved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\nIn the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\nThat's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\nWay before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\nHeard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\nWell, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\nGonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\nAnd don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nNah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nTryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\nPunk bitch (Real)\nPunk bitch, huh\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, get to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\nHey, what's up? Hey what's up\nHey, what's up?\nYo, what's good?\nHey\nHey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\nNah, fuck\nYour call has been forwarded to voicemail\nThe person you're trying to reach\nFuck\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.03] So close\n[00:03.30] Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n[00:10.68] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:13.24] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[00:15.00] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:18.51] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[00:21.16] Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n[00:23.80] Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n[00:26.36] If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n[00:28.00] Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n[00:31.68] And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n[00:33.79] But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n[00:36.36] The temperaturе's low\n[00:37.40] But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n[00:42.08] Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n[00:45.63] Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n[00:48.19] Face, tits, for rent, owing\n[00:49.79] Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n[00:52.47] Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n[00:54.88] Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n[00:57.80] My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n[01:00.52] And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n[01:02.87] I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n[01:05.47] Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n[01:08.19] Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n[01:10.75] Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n[01:13.35] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:15.87] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[01:18.55] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:21.07] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[01:23.71] You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n[01:25.67] You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n[01:28.02] We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n[01:30.55] We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n[01:33.19] You wanna—\n\n[01:33.90] Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n[01:36.50] This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n[01:39.13] You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n[01:41.61] You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n[01:44.49] He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n[01:47.18] Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n[01:49.45] I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n[01:52.17] When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n[01:55.39] It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n[01:58.68] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n[02:01.60] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n[02:04.15] It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n[02:04.94] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[02:07.98] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[02:10.45] Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n[02:13.10] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n[02:15.81] Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n[02:18.21] Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n[02:20.89] Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n[02:23.37] All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n[02:26.01] Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n[02:28.66] I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n[02:31.21] Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n[02:33.89] You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n[02:36.41] You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n[02:38.78] And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n[02:41.69] And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n[02:44.29] So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n[02:47.05] You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n[02:49.44] You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n[02:51.85] Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n[02:54.53] Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n[02:57.29] 'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n[02:59.64] In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n[03:02.60] That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n[03:05.21] Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n[03:07.76] Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n[03:10.36] Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n[03:12.93] Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n[03:15.56] And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:18.21] Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:20.85] Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n[03:25.12] Punk bitch (Real)\n[03:27.97] Punk bitch, huh\n\n[03:28.73] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:31.67] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[03:34.19] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:36.75] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[03:39.47] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[03:42.07] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[03:44.59] Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n[03:47.19] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n[03:53.32] 'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n[04:17.20] Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n[04:21.29] Hey, what's up?\n[04:23.78] Yo, what's good?\n[04:26.65] Hey\n[04:28.01] Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n[04:31.29] Nah, fuck\n[04:46.77] Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n[04:48.61] The person you're trying to reach\n[04:49.90] Fuck\n[04:50.34] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Poor Thang\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: The Fall-Off\n  duration_ms: 170000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: So close\n  start_ms: 2030\n  end_ms: 3300\n- text: Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  start_ms: 3300\n  end_ms: 10680\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 10680\n  end_ms: 13240\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 13240\n  end_ms: 15000\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 15000\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 21160\n- text: Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  start_ms: 21160\n  end_ms: 23800\n- text: Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  start_ms: 23800\n  end_ms: 26360\n- text: If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  start_ms: 26360\n  end_ms: 28000\n- text: Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  start_ms: 28000\n  end_ms: 31680\n- text: And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  start_ms: 31680\n  end_ms: 33790\n- text: But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  start_ms: 33790\n  end_ms: 36360\n- text: The temperaturе's low\n  start_ms: 36360\n  end_ms: 37400\n- text: But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  start_ms: 37400\n  end_ms: 42080\n- text: Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  start_ms: 42080\n  end_ms: 45630\n- text: Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  start_ms: 45630\n  end_ms: 48190\n- text: Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  start_ms: 48190\n  end_ms: 49790\n- text: Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  start_ms: 49790\n  end_ms: 52470\n- text: Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  start_ms: 52470\n  end_ms: 54880\n- text: Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  start_ms: 54880\n  end_ms: 57800\n- text: My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  start_ms: 57800\n  end_ms: 60520\n- text: And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  start_ms: 60520\n  end_ms: 62870\n- text: I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  start_ms: 62870\n  end_ms: 65470\n- text: Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  start_ms: 65470\n  end_ms: 68190\n- text: Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  start_ms: 68190\n  end_ms: 70750\n- text: Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n  start_ms: 70750\n  end_ms: 73350\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 73350\n  end_ms: 75870\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 75870\n  end_ms: 78550\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 78550\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 83710\n- text: You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  start_ms: 83710\n  end_ms: 85670\n- text: You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  start_ms: 85670\n  end_ms: 88020\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  start_ms: 88020\n  end_ms: 90550\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  start_ms: 90550\n  end_ms: 93190\n- text: You wanna—\n  start_ms: 93190\n  end_ms: 93900\n- text: Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  start_ms: 93900\n  end_ms: 96500\n- text: This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  start_ms: 96500\n  end_ms: 99130\n- text: You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  start_ms: 99130\n  end_ms: 101610\n- text: You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  start_ms: 101610\n  end_ms: 104490\n- text: He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  start_ms: 104490\n  end_ms: 107180\n- text: Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  start_ms: 107180\n  end_ms: 109450\n- text: I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  start_ms: 109450\n  end_ms: 112170\n- text: When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  start_ms: 112170\n  end_ms: 115390\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  start_ms: 115390\n  end_ms: 118680\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  start_ms: 118680\n  end_ms: 121600\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  start_ms: 121600\n  end_ms: 124150\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n  start_ms: 124150\n  end_ms: 124940\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 124940\n  end_ms: 127980\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 127980\n  end_ms: 130450\n- text: Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  start_ms: 130450\n  end_ms: 133100\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 133100\n  end_ms: 135810\n- text: Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 135810\n  end_ms: 138210\n- text: Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 138210\n  end_ms: 140890\n- text: Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 140890\n  end_ms: 143370\n- text: All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 143370\n  end_ms: 146010\n- text: Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 146010\n  end_ms: 148660\n- text: I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 148660\n  end_ms: 151210\n- text: Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 151210\n  end_ms: 153890\n- text: You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 153890\n  end_ms: 156410\n- text: You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 156410\n  end_ms: 158780\n- text: And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 158780\n  end_ms: 161690\n- text: And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 161690\n  end_ms: 164290\n- text: So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 164290\n  end_ms: 167050\n- text: You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 167050\n  end_ms: 169440\n- text: You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  start_ms: 169440\n  end_ms: 171850\n- text: Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  start_ms: 171850\n  end_ms: 174530\n- text: Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  start_ms: 174530\n  end_ms: 177290\n- text: '''Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched'\n  start_ms: 177290\n  end_ms: 179640\n- text: In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  start_ms: 179640\n  end_ms: 182600\n- text: That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 182600\n  end_ms: 185210\n- text: Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 185210\n  end_ms: 187760\n- text: Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  start_ms: 187760\n  end_ms: 190360\n- text: Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 190360\n  end_ms: 192930\n- text: Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 192930\n  end_ms: 195560\n- text: And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 195560\n  end_ms: 198210\n- text: Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 198210\n  end_ms: 200850\n- text: Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  start_ms: 200850\n  end_ms: 205120\n- text: Punk bitch (Real)\n  start_ms: 205120\n  end_ms: 207970\n- text: Punk bitch, huh\n  start_ms: 207970\n  end_ms: 208730\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 208730\n  end_ms: 211670\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 211670\n  end_ms: 214190\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 214190\n  end_ms: 216750\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 216750\n  end_ms: 219470\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 219470\n  end_ms: 222070\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 222070\n  end_ms: 224590\n- text: Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  start_ms: 224590\n  end_ms: 227190\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 227190\n  end_ms: 233320\n- text: '''Cause I''ve been through lots of things'\n  start_ms: 233320\n  end_ms: 257200\n- text: Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  start_ms: 257200\n  end_ms: 261290\n- text: Hey, what's up?\n  start_ms: 261290\n  end_ms: 263780\n- text: Yo, what's good?\n  start_ms: 263780\n  end_ms: 266650\n- text: Hey\n  start_ms: 266650\n  end_ms: 268010\n- text: Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  start_ms: 268010\n  end_ms: 271290\n- text: Nah, fuck\n  start_ms: 271290\n  end_ms: 286770\n- text: Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  start_ms: 286770\n  end_ms: 288610\n- text: The person you're trying to reach\n  start_ms: 288610\n  end_ms: 289900\n- text: Fuck\n  start_ms: 289900\n  end_ms: 290340\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 290340\nplain: |\n  So close\n  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  The temperaturе's low\n  But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  You wanna—\n\n  Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n  Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n  In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  Punk bitch (Real)\n  Punk bitch, huh\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n  Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  Hey, what's up?\n  Yo, what's good?\n  Hey\n  Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  Nah, fuck\n  Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  The person you're trying to reach\n  Fuck\n"},{"id":33437573,"name":"Poor Thang","trackName":"Poor Thang","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"The Fall‐Off","duration":290.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"So close\nBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nPicture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\nWhere niggas die over pride and live for the dough\nIf I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\nHopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\nAnd I'm conflicted with no digits to show\nBut fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\nThe temperaturе's low\nBut you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\nVicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\nPiss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\nFace, tits, for rent, owing\nFist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\nLives expire when niggas pride gets higher\nThan the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\nMy road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\nAnd tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\nI know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\nPost-traumatic stress on an immature brain\nLeaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\nNow he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nYou wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\nYou want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\nWe'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\nWe'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\nYou wanna—\n\nHere go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\nThis nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\nYou get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\nYou make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\nHe talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\nMan, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\nI know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\nWhen egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\nIt's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, live to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\nPlenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\nRent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\nWeren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\nAll of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\nGo 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\nI knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\nStarted rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\nYou more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\nYou can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\nAnd that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\nAnd you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\nSo how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\nYou a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\nYou ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\nMan, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\nMoved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\nIn the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\nThat's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\nWay before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\nHeard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\nWell, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\nGonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\nAnd don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nNah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nTryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\nPunk bitch (Real)\nPunk bitch, huh\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, get to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\nHey, what's up? Hey what's up\nHey, what's up?\nYo, what's good?\nHey\nHey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\nNah, fuck\nYour call has been forwarded to voicemail\nThe person you're trying to reach\nFuck\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.03] So close\n[00:03.30] Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n[00:10.68] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:13.24] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[00:15.00] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:18.51] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[00:21.16] Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n[00:23.80] Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n[00:26.36] If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n[00:28.00] Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n[00:31.68] And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n[00:33.79] But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n[00:36.36] The temperaturе's low\n[00:37.40] But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n[00:42.08] Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n[00:45.63] Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n[00:48.19] Face, tits, for rent, owing\n[00:49.79] Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n[00:52.47] Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n[00:54.88] Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n[00:57.80] My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n[01:00.52] And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n[01:02.87] I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n[01:05.47] Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n[01:08.19] Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n[01:10.75] Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n[01:13.35] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:15.87] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[01:18.55] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:21.07] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[01:23.71] You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n[01:25.67] You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n[01:28.02] We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n[01:30.55] We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n[01:33.19] You wanna—\n\n[01:33.90] Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n[01:36.50] This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n[01:39.13] You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n[01:41.61] You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n[01:44.49] He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n[01:47.18] Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n[01:49.45] I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n[01:52.17] When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n[01:55.39] It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n[01:58.68] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n[02:01.60] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n[02:04.15] It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n[02:04.94] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[02:07.98] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[02:10.45] Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n[02:13.10] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n[02:15.81] Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n[02:18.21] Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n[02:20.89] Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n[02:23.37] All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n[02:26.01] Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n[02:28.66] I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n[02:31.21] Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n[02:33.89] You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n[02:36.41] You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n[02:38.78] And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n[02:41.69] And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n[02:44.29] So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n[02:47.05] You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n[02:49.44] You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n[02:51.85] Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n[02:54.53] Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n[02:57.29] 'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n[02:59.64] In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n[03:02.60] That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n[03:05.21] Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n[03:07.76] Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n[03:10.36] Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n[03:12.93] Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n[03:15.56] And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:18.21] Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:20.85] Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n[03:25.12] Punk bitch (Real)\n[03:27.97] Punk bitch, huh\n\n[03:28.73] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:31.67] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[03:34.19] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:36.75] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[03:39.47] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[03:42.07] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[03:44.59] Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n[03:47.19] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n[03:53.32] 'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n[04:17.20] Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n[04:21.29] Hey, what's up?\n[04:23.78] Yo, what's good?\n[04:26.65] Hey\n[04:28.01] Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n[04:31.29] Nah, fuck\n[04:46.77] Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n[04:48.61] The person you're trying to reach\n[04:49.90] Fuck\n[04:50.34] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Poor Thang\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: The Fall‐Off\n  duration_ms: 290000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: So close\n  start_ms: 2030\n  end_ms: 3300\n- text: Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  start_ms: 3300\n  end_ms: 10680\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 10680\n  end_ms: 13240\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 13240\n  end_ms: 15000\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 15000\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 21160\n- text: Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  start_ms: 21160\n  end_ms: 23800\n- text: Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  start_ms: 23800\n  end_ms: 26360\n- text: If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  start_ms: 26360\n  end_ms: 28000\n- text: Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  start_ms: 28000\n  end_ms: 31680\n- text: And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  start_ms: 31680\n  end_ms: 33790\n- text: But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  start_ms: 33790\n  end_ms: 36360\n- text: The temperaturе's low\n  start_ms: 36360\n  end_ms: 37400\n- text: But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  start_ms: 37400\n  end_ms: 42080\n- text: Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  start_ms: 42080\n  end_ms: 45630\n- text: Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  start_ms: 45630\n  end_ms: 48190\n- text: Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  start_ms: 48190\n  end_ms: 49790\n- text: Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  start_ms: 49790\n  end_ms: 52470\n- text: Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  start_ms: 52470\n  end_ms: 54880\n- text: Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  start_ms: 54880\n  end_ms: 57800\n- text: My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  start_ms: 57800\n  end_ms: 60520\n- text: And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  start_ms: 60520\n  end_ms: 62870\n- text: I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  start_ms: 62870\n  end_ms: 65470\n- text: Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  start_ms: 65470\n  end_ms: 68190\n- text: Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  start_ms: 68190\n  end_ms: 70750\n- text: Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n  start_ms: 70750\n  end_ms: 73350\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 73350\n  end_ms: 75870\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 75870\n  end_ms: 78550\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 78550\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 83710\n- text: You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  start_ms: 83710\n  end_ms: 85670\n- text: You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  start_ms: 85670\n  end_ms: 88020\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  start_ms: 88020\n  end_ms: 90550\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  start_ms: 90550\n  end_ms: 93190\n- text: You wanna—\n  start_ms: 93190\n  end_ms: 93900\n- text: Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  start_ms: 93900\n  end_ms: 96500\n- text: This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  start_ms: 96500\n  end_ms: 99130\n- text: You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  start_ms: 99130\n  end_ms: 101610\n- text: You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  start_ms: 101610\n  end_ms: 104490\n- text: He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  start_ms: 104490\n  end_ms: 107180\n- text: Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  start_ms: 107180\n  end_ms: 109450\n- text: I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  start_ms: 109450\n  end_ms: 112170\n- text: When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  start_ms: 112170\n  end_ms: 115390\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  start_ms: 115390\n  end_ms: 118680\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  start_ms: 118680\n  end_ms: 121600\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  start_ms: 121600\n  end_ms: 124150\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n  start_ms: 124150\n  end_ms: 124940\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 124940\n  end_ms: 127980\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 127980\n  end_ms: 130450\n- text: Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  start_ms: 130450\n  end_ms: 133100\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 133100\n  end_ms: 135810\n- text: Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 135810\n  end_ms: 138210\n- text: Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 138210\n  end_ms: 140890\n- text: Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 140890\n  end_ms: 143370\n- text: All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 143370\n  end_ms: 146010\n- text: Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 146010\n  end_ms: 148660\n- text: I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 148660\n  end_ms: 151210\n- text: Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 151210\n  end_ms: 153890\n- text: You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 153890\n  end_ms: 156410\n- text: You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 156410\n  end_ms: 158780\n- text: And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 158780\n  end_ms: 161690\n- text: And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 161690\n  end_ms: 164290\n- text: So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 164290\n  end_ms: 167050\n- text: You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 167050\n  end_ms: 169440\n- text: You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  start_ms: 169440\n  end_ms: 171850\n- text: Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  start_ms: 171850\n  end_ms: 174530\n- text: Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  start_ms: 174530\n  end_ms: 177290\n- text: '''Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched'\n  start_ms: 177290\n  end_ms: 179640\n- text: In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  start_ms: 179640\n  end_ms: 182600\n- text: That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 182600\n  end_ms: 185210\n- text: Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 185210\n  end_ms: 187760\n- text: Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  start_ms: 187760\n  end_ms: 190360\n- text: Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 190360\n  end_ms: 192930\n- text: Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 192930\n  end_ms: 195560\n- text: And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 195560\n  end_ms: 198210\n- text: Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 198210\n  end_ms: 200850\n- text: Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  start_ms: 200850\n  end_ms: 205120\n- text: Punk bitch (Real)\n  start_ms: 205120\n  end_ms: 207970\n- text: Punk bitch, huh\n  start_ms: 207970\n  end_ms: 208730\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 208730\n  end_ms: 211670\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 211670\n  end_ms: 214190\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 214190\n  end_ms: 216750\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 216750\n  end_ms: 219470\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 219470\n  end_ms: 222070\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 222070\n  end_ms: 224590\n- text: Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  start_ms: 224590\n  end_ms: 227190\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 227190\n  end_ms: 233320\n- text: '''Cause I''ve been through lots of things'\n  start_ms: 233320\n  end_ms: 257200\n- text: Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  start_ms: 257200\n  end_ms: 261290\n- text: Hey, what's up?\n  start_ms: 261290\n  end_ms: 263780\n- text: Yo, what's good?\n  start_ms: 263780\n  end_ms: 266650\n- text: Hey\n  start_ms: 266650\n  end_ms: 268010\n- text: Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  start_ms: 268010\n  end_ms: 271290\n- text: Nah, fuck\n  start_ms: 271290\n  end_ms: 286770\n- text: Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  start_ms: 286770\n  end_ms: 288610\n- text: The person you're trying to reach\n  start_ms: 288610\n  end_ms: 289900\n- text: Fuck\n  start_ms: 289900\n  end_ms: 290340\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 290340\nplain: |\n  So close\n  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  The temperaturе's low\n  But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  You wanna—\n\n  Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n  Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n  In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  Punk bitch (Real)\n  Punk bitch, huh\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n  Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  Hey, what's up?\n  Yo, what's good?\n  Hey\n  Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  Nah, fuck\n  Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  The person you're trying to reach\n  Fuck\n"},{"id":36840074,"name":"Poor Thang","trackName":"Poor Thang","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"9.3M plays","duration":290.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"So close\nBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nPicture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\nWhere niggas die over pride and live for the dough\nIf I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\nHopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\nAnd I'm conflicted with no digits to show\nBut fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\nThe temperaturе's low\nBut you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\nVicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\nPiss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\nFace, tits, for rent, owing\nFist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\nLives expire when niggas pride gets higher\nThan the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\nMy road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\nAnd tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\nI know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\nPost-traumatic stress on an immature brain\nLeaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\nNow he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nYou wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\nYou want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\nWe'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\nWe'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\nYou wanna—\n\nHere go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\nThis nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\nYou get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\nYou make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\nHe talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\nMan, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\nI know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\nWhen egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\nIt's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, live to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\nPlenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\nRent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\nWeren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\nAll of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\nGo 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\nI knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\nStarted rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\nYou more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\nYou can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\nAnd that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\nAnd you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\nSo how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\nYou a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\nYou ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\nMan, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\nMoved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\nIn the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\nThat's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\nWay before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\nHeard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\nWell, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\nGonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\nAnd don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nNah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nTryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\nPunk bitch (Real)\nPunk bitch, huh\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, get to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\nHey, what's up? Hey what's up\nHey, what's up?\nYo, what's good?\nHey\nHey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\nNah, fuck\nYour call has been forwarded to voicemail\nThe person you're trying to reach\nFuck\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.03] So close\n[00:03.30] Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n[00:10.68] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:13.24] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[00:15.00] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:18.51] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[00:21.16] Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n[00:23.80] Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n[00:26.36] If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n[00:28.00] Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n[00:31.68] And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n[00:33.79] But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n[00:36.36] The temperaturе's low\n[00:37.40] But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n[00:42.08] Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n[00:45.63] Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n[00:48.19] Face, tits, for rent, owing\n[00:49.79] Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n[00:52.47] Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n[00:54.88] Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n[00:57.80] My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n[01:00.52] And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n[01:02.87] I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n[01:05.47] Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n[01:08.19] Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n[01:10.75] Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n[01:13.35] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:15.87] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[01:18.55] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:21.07] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[01:23.71] You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n[01:25.67] You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n[01:28.02] We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n[01:30.55] We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n[01:33.19] You wanna—\n\n[01:33.90] Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n[01:36.50] This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n[01:39.13] You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n[01:41.61] You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n[01:44.49] He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n[01:47.18] Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n[01:49.45] I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n[01:52.17] When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n[01:55.39] It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n[01:58.68] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n[02:01.60] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n[02:04.15] It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n[02:04.94] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[02:07.98] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[02:10.45] Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n[02:13.10] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n[02:15.81] Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n[02:18.21] Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n[02:20.89] Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n[02:23.37] All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n[02:26.01] Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n[02:28.66] I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n[02:31.21] Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n[02:33.89] You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n[02:36.41] You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n[02:38.78] And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n[02:41.69] And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n[02:44.29] So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n[02:47.05] You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n[02:49.44] You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n[02:51.85] Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n[02:54.53] Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n[02:57.29] 'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n[02:59.64] In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n[03:02.60] That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n[03:05.21] Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n[03:07.76] Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n[03:10.36] Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n[03:12.93] Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n[03:15.56] And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:18.21] Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:20.85] Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n[03:25.12] Punk bitch (Real)\n[03:27.97] Punk bitch, huh\n\n[03:28.73] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:31.67] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[03:34.19] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:36.75] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[03:39.47] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[03:42.07] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[03:44.59] Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n[03:47.19] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n[03:53.32] 'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n[04:17.20] Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n[04:21.29] Hey, what's up?\n[04:23.78] Yo, what's good?\n[04:26.65] Hey\n[04:28.01] Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n[04:31.29] Nah, fuck\n[04:46.77] Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n[04:48.61] The person you're trying to reach\n[04:49.90] Fuck\n[04:50.34] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Poor Thang\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: 9.3M plays\n  duration_ms: 290000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: So close\n  start_ms: 2030\n  end_ms: 3300\n- text: Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  start_ms: 3300\n  end_ms: 10680\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 10680\n  end_ms: 13240\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 13240\n  end_ms: 15000\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 15000\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 21160\n- text: Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  start_ms: 21160\n  end_ms: 23800\n- text: Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  start_ms: 23800\n  end_ms: 26360\n- text: If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  start_ms: 26360\n  end_ms: 28000\n- text: Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  start_ms: 28000\n  end_ms: 31680\n- text: And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  start_ms: 31680\n  end_ms: 33790\n- text: But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  start_ms: 33790\n  end_ms: 36360\n- text: The temperaturе's low\n  start_ms: 36360\n  end_ms: 37400\n- text: But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  start_ms: 37400\n  end_ms: 42080\n- text: Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  start_ms: 42080\n  end_ms: 45630\n- text: Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  start_ms: 45630\n  end_ms: 48190\n- text: Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  start_ms: 48190\n  end_ms: 49790\n- text: Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  start_ms: 49790\n  end_ms: 52470\n- text: Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  start_ms: 52470\n  end_ms: 54880\n- text: Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  start_ms: 54880\n  end_ms: 57800\n- text: My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  start_ms: 57800\n  end_ms: 60520\n- text: And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  start_ms: 60520\n  end_ms: 62870\n- text: I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  start_ms: 62870\n  end_ms: 65470\n- text: Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  start_ms: 65470\n  end_ms: 68190\n- text: Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  start_ms: 68190\n  end_ms: 70750\n- text: Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n  start_ms: 70750\n  end_ms: 73350\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 73350\n  end_ms: 75870\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 75870\n  end_ms: 78550\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 78550\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 83710\n- text: You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  start_ms: 83710\n  end_ms: 85670\n- text: You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  start_ms: 85670\n  end_ms: 88020\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  start_ms: 88020\n  end_ms: 90550\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  start_ms: 90550\n  end_ms: 93190\n- text: You wanna—\n  start_ms: 93190\n  end_ms: 93900\n- text: Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  start_ms: 93900\n  end_ms: 96500\n- text: This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  start_ms: 96500\n  end_ms: 99130\n- text: You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  start_ms: 99130\n  end_ms: 101610\n- text: You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  start_ms: 101610\n  end_ms: 104490\n- text: He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  start_ms: 104490\n  end_ms: 107180\n- text: Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  start_ms: 107180\n  end_ms: 109450\n- text: I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  start_ms: 109450\n  end_ms: 112170\n- text: When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  start_ms: 112170\n  end_ms: 115390\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  start_ms: 115390\n  end_ms: 118680\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  start_ms: 118680\n  end_ms: 121600\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  start_ms: 121600\n  end_ms: 124150\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n  start_ms: 124150\n  end_ms: 124940\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 124940\n  end_ms: 127980\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 127980\n  end_ms: 130450\n- text: Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  start_ms: 130450\n  end_ms: 133100\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 133100\n  end_ms: 135810\n- text: Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 135810\n  end_ms: 138210\n- text: Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 138210\n  end_ms: 140890\n- text: Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 140890\n  end_ms: 143370\n- text: All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 143370\n  end_ms: 146010\n- text: Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 146010\n  end_ms: 148660\n- text: I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 148660\n  end_ms: 151210\n- text: Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 151210\n  end_ms: 153890\n- text: You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 153890\n  end_ms: 156410\n- text: You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 156410\n  end_ms: 158780\n- text: And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 158780\n  end_ms: 161690\n- text: And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 161690\n  end_ms: 164290\n- text: So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 164290\n  end_ms: 167050\n- text: You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 167050\n  end_ms: 169440\n- text: You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  start_ms: 169440\n  end_ms: 171850\n- text: Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  start_ms: 171850\n  end_ms: 174530\n- text: Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  start_ms: 174530\n  end_ms: 177290\n- text: '''Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched'\n  start_ms: 177290\n  end_ms: 179640\n- text: In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  start_ms: 179640\n  end_ms: 182600\n- text: That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 182600\n  end_ms: 185210\n- text: Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 185210\n  end_ms: 187760\n- text: Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  start_ms: 187760\n  end_ms: 190360\n- text: Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 190360\n  end_ms: 192930\n- text: Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 192930\n  end_ms: 195560\n- text: And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 195560\n  end_ms: 198210\n- text: Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 198210\n  end_ms: 200850\n- text: Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  start_ms: 200850\n  end_ms: 205120\n- text: Punk bitch (Real)\n  start_ms: 205120\n  end_ms: 207970\n- text: Punk bitch, huh\n  start_ms: 207970\n  end_ms: 208730\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 208730\n  end_ms: 211670\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 211670\n  end_ms: 214190\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 214190\n  end_ms: 216750\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 216750\n  end_ms: 219470\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 219470\n  end_ms: 222070\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 222070\n  end_ms: 224590\n- text: Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  start_ms: 224590\n  end_ms: 227190\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 227190\n  end_ms: 233320\n- text: '''Cause I''ve been through lots of things'\n  start_ms: 233320\n  end_ms: 257200\n- text: Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  start_ms: 257200\n  end_ms: 261290\n- text: Hey, what's up?\n  start_ms: 261290\n  end_ms: 263780\n- text: Yo, what's good?\n  start_ms: 263780\n  end_ms: 266650\n- text: Hey\n  start_ms: 266650\n  end_ms: 268010\n- text: Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  start_ms: 268010\n  end_ms: 271290\n- text: Nah, fuck\n  start_ms: 271290\n  end_ms: 286770\n- text: Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  start_ms: 286770\n  end_ms: 288610\n- text: The person you're trying to reach\n  start_ms: 288610\n  end_ms: 289900\n- text: Fuck\n  start_ms: 289900\n  end_ms: 290340\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 290340\nplain: |\n  So close\n  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  The temperaturе's low\n  But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  You wanna—\n\n  Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n  Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n  In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  Punk bitch (Real)\n  Punk bitch, huh\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n  Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  Hey, what's up?\n  Yo, what's good?\n  Hey\n  Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  Nah, fuck\n  Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  The person you're trying to reach\n  Fuck\n"},{"id":36935104,"name":"Poor Thang","trackName":"Poor Thang","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"Mix - LOVE.","duration":291.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"So close\nBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nPicture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\nWhere niggas die over pride and live for the dough\nIf I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\nHopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\nAnd I'm conflicted with no digits to show\nBut fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\nThe temperaturе's low\nBut you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\nVicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\nPiss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\nFace, tits, for rent, owing\nFist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\nLives expire when niggas pride gets higher\nThan the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\nMy road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\nAnd tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\nI know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\nPost-traumatic stress on an immature brain\nLeaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\nNow he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nYou wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\nYou want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\nWe'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\nWe'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\nYou wanna—\n\nHere go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\nThis nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\nYou get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\nYou make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\nHe talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\nMan, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\nI know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\nWhen egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\nIt's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, live to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\nPlenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\nRent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\nWeren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\nAll of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\nGo 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\nI knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\nStarted rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\nYou more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\nYou can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\nAnd that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\nAnd you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\nSo how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\nYou a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\nYou ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\nMan, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\nMoved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\nIn the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\nThat's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\nWay before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\nHeard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\nWell, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\nGonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\nAnd don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nNah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nTryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\nPunk bitch (Real)\nPunk bitch, huh\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, get to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\nHey, what's up? Hey what's up\nHey, what's up?\nYo, what's good?\nHey\nHey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\nNah, fuck\nYour call has been forwarded to voicemail\nThe person you're trying to reach\nFuck\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.03] So close\n[00:03.30] Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n[00:10.68] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:13.24] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[00:15.00] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:18.51] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[00:21.16] Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n[00:23.80] Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n[00:26.36] If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n[00:28.00] Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n[00:31.68] And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n[00:33.79] But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n[00:36.36] The temperaturе's low\n[00:37.40] But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n[00:42.08] Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n[00:45.63] Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n[00:48.19] Face, tits, for rent, owing\n[00:49.79] Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n[00:52.47] Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n[00:54.88] Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n[00:57.80] My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n[01:00.52] And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n[01:02.87] I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n[01:05.47] Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n[01:08.19] Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n[01:10.75] Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n[01:13.35] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:15.87] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[01:18.55] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:21.07] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[01:23.71] You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n[01:25.67] You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n[01:28.02] We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n[01:30.55] We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n[01:33.19] You wanna—\n\n[01:33.90] Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n[01:36.50] This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n[01:39.13] You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n[01:41.61] You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n[01:44.49] He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n[01:47.18] Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n[01:49.45] I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n[01:52.17] When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n[01:55.39] It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n[01:58.68] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n[02:01.60] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n[02:04.15] It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n[02:04.94] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[02:07.98] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[02:10.45] Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n[02:13.10] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n[02:15.81] Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n[02:18.21] Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n[02:20.89] Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n[02:23.37] All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n[02:26.01] Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n[02:28.66] I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n[02:31.21] Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n[02:33.89] You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n[02:36.41] You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n[02:38.78] And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n[02:41.69] And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n[02:44.29] So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n[02:47.05] You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n[02:49.44] You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n[02:51.85] Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n[02:54.53] Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n[02:57.29] 'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n[02:59.64] In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n[03:02.60] That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n[03:05.21] Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n[03:07.76] Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n[03:10.36] Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n[03:12.93] Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n[03:15.56] And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:18.21] Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:20.85] Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n[03:25.12] Punk bitch (Real)\n[03:27.97] Punk bitch, huh\n\n[03:28.73] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:31.67] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[03:34.19] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:36.75] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[03:39.47] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[03:42.07] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[03:44.59] Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n[03:47.19] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n[03:53.32] 'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n[04:17.20] Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n[04:21.29] Hey, what's up?\n[04:23.78] Yo, what's good?\n[04:26.65] Hey\n[04:28.01] Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n[04:31.29] Nah, fuck\n[04:46.77] Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n[04:48.61] The person you're trying to reach\n[04:49.90] Fuck\n[04:50.34] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Poor Thang\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: Mix - LOVE.\n  duration_ms: 291000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: So close\n  start_ms: 2030\n  end_ms: 3300\n- text: Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  start_ms: 3300\n  end_ms: 10680\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 10680\n  end_ms: 13240\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 13240\n  end_ms: 15000\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 15000\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 21160\n- text: Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  start_ms: 21160\n  end_ms: 23800\n- text: Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  start_ms: 23800\n  end_ms: 26360\n- text: If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  start_ms: 26360\n  end_ms: 28000\n- text: Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  start_ms: 28000\n  end_ms: 31680\n- text: And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  start_ms: 31680\n  end_ms: 33790\n- text: But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  start_ms: 33790\n  end_ms: 36360\n- text: The temperaturе's low\n  start_ms: 36360\n  end_ms: 37400\n- text: But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  start_ms: 37400\n  end_ms: 42080\n- text: Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  start_ms: 42080\n  end_ms: 45630\n- text: Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  start_ms: 45630\n  end_ms: 48190\n- text: Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  start_ms: 48190\n  end_ms: 49790\n- text: Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  start_ms: 49790\n  end_ms: 52470\n- text: Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  start_ms: 52470\n  end_ms: 54880\n- text: Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  start_ms: 54880\n  end_ms: 57800\n- text: My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  start_ms: 57800\n  end_ms: 60520\n- text: And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  start_ms: 60520\n  end_ms: 62870\n- text: I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  start_ms: 62870\n  end_ms: 65470\n- text: Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  start_ms: 65470\n  end_ms: 68190\n- text: Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  start_ms: 68190\n  end_ms: 70750\n- text: Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n  start_ms: 70750\n  end_ms: 73350\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 73350\n  end_ms: 75870\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 75870\n  end_ms: 78550\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 78550\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 83710\n- text: You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  start_ms: 83710\n  end_ms: 85670\n- text: You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  start_ms: 85670\n  end_ms: 88020\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  start_ms: 88020\n  end_ms: 90550\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  start_ms: 90550\n  end_ms: 93190\n- text: You wanna—\n  start_ms: 93190\n  end_ms: 93900\n- text: Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  start_ms: 93900\n  end_ms: 96500\n- text: This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  start_ms: 96500\n  end_ms: 99130\n- text: You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  start_ms: 99130\n  end_ms: 101610\n- text: You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  start_ms: 101610\n  end_ms: 104490\n- text: He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  start_ms: 104490\n  end_ms: 107180\n- text: Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  start_ms: 107180\n  end_ms: 109450\n- text: I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  start_ms: 109450\n  end_ms: 112170\n- text: When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  start_ms: 112170\n  end_ms: 115390\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  start_ms: 115390\n  end_ms: 118680\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  start_ms: 118680\n  end_ms: 121600\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  start_ms: 121600\n  end_ms: 124150\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n  start_ms: 124150\n  end_ms: 124940\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 124940\n  end_ms: 127980\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 127980\n  end_ms: 130450\n- text: Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  start_ms: 130450\n  end_ms: 133100\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 133100\n  end_ms: 135810\n- text: Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 135810\n  end_ms: 138210\n- text: Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 138210\n  end_ms: 140890\n- text: Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 140890\n  end_ms: 143370\n- text: All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 143370\n  end_ms: 146010\n- text: Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 146010\n  end_ms: 148660\n- text: I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 148660\n  end_ms: 151210\n- text: Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 151210\n  end_ms: 153890\n- text: You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 153890\n  end_ms: 156410\n- text: You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 156410\n  end_ms: 158780\n- text: And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 158780\n  end_ms: 161690\n- text: And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 161690\n  end_ms: 164290\n- text: So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 164290\n  end_ms: 167050\n- text: You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 167050\n  end_ms: 169440\n- text: You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  start_ms: 169440\n  end_ms: 171850\n- text: Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  start_ms: 171850\n  end_ms: 174530\n- text: Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  start_ms: 174530\n  end_ms: 177290\n- text: '''Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched'\n  start_ms: 177290\n  end_ms: 179640\n- text: In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  start_ms: 179640\n  end_ms: 182600\n- text: That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 182600\n  end_ms: 185210\n- text: Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 185210\n  end_ms: 187760\n- text: Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  start_ms: 187760\n  end_ms: 190360\n- text: Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 190360\n  end_ms: 192930\n- text: Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 192930\n  end_ms: 195560\n- text: And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 195560\n  end_ms: 198210\n- text: Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 198210\n  end_ms: 200850\n- text: Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  start_ms: 200850\n  end_ms: 205120\n- text: Punk bitch (Real)\n  start_ms: 205120\n  end_ms: 207970\n- text: Punk bitch, huh\n  start_ms: 207970\n  end_ms: 208730\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 208730\n  end_ms: 211670\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 211670\n  end_ms: 214190\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 214190\n  end_ms: 216750\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 216750\n  end_ms: 219470\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 219470\n  end_ms: 222070\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 222070\n  end_ms: 224590\n- text: Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  start_ms: 224590\n  end_ms: 227190\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 227190\n  end_ms: 233320\n- text: '''Cause I''ve been through lots of things'\n  start_ms: 233320\n  end_ms: 257200\n- text: Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  start_ms: 257200\n  end_ms: 261290\n- text: Hey, what's up?\n  start_ms: 261290\n  end_ms: 263780\n- text: Yo, what's good?\n  start_ms: 263780\n  end_ms: 266650\n- text: Hey\n  start_ms: 266650\n  end_ms: 268010\n- text: Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  start_ms: 268010\n  end_ms: 271290\n- text: Nah, fuck\n  start_ms: 271290\n  end_ms: 286770\n- text: Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  start_ms: 286770\n  end_ms: 288610\n- text: The person you're trying to reach\n  start_ms: 288610\n  end_ms: 289900\n- text: Fuck\n  start_ms: 289900\n  end_ms: 290340\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 290340\nplain: |\n  So close\n  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  The temperaturе's low\n  But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  You wanna—\n\n  Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n  Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n  In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  Punk bitch (Real)\n  Punk bitch, huh\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n  Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  Hey, what's up?\n  Yo, what's good?\n  Hey\n  Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  Nah, fuck\n  Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  The person you're trying to reach\n  Fuck\n"},{"id":36657516,"name":"Poor Thang","trackName":"Poor Thang","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"The Fall-Off (explicit)","duration":290.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"So close\nBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nPicture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\nWhere niggas die over pride and live for the dough\nIf I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\nHopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\nAnd I'm conflicted with no digits to show\nBut fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\nThe temperaturе's low\nBut you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\nVicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\nPiss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\nFace, tits, for rent, owing\nFist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\nLives expire when niggas pride gets higher\nThan the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\nMy road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\nAnd tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\nI know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\nPost-traumatic stress on an immature brain\nLeaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\nNow he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nYou wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\nYou want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\nWe'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\nWe'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\nYou wanna—\n\nHere go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\nThis nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\nYou get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\nYou make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\nHe talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\nMan, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\nI know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\nWhen egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\nIt's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, live to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\nPlenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\nRent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\nWeren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\nAll of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\nGo 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\nI knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\nStarted rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\nYou more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\nYou can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\nAnd that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\nAnd you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\nSo how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\nYou a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\nYou ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\nMan, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\nMoved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\nIn the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\nThat's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\nWay before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\nHeard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\nWell, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\nGonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\nAnd don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nNah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nTryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\nPunk bitch (Real)\nPunk bitch, huh\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, get to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\nHey, what's up? Hey what's up\nHey, what's up?\nYo, what's good?\nHey\nHey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\nNah, fuck\nYour call has been forwarded to voicemail\nThe person you're trying to reach\nFuck\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.03] So close\n[00:03.30] Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n[00:10.68] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:13.24] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[00:15.00] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:18.51] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[00:21.16] Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n[00:23.80] Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n[00:26.36] If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n[00:28.00] Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n[00:31.68] And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n[00:33.79] But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n[00:36.36] The temperaturе's low\n[00:37.40] But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n[00:42.08] Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n[00:45.63] Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n[00:48.19] Face, tits, for rent, owing\n[00:49.79] Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n[00:52.47] Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n[00:54.88] Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n[00:57.80] My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n[01:00.52] And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n[01:02.87] I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n[01:05.47] Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n[01:08.19] Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n[01:10.75] Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n[01:13.35] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:15.87] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[01:18.55] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:21.07] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[01:23.71] You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n[01:25.67] You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n[01:28.02] We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n[01:30.55] We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n[01:33.19] You wanna—\n\n[01:33.90] Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n[01:36.50] This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n[01:39.13] You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n[01:41.61] You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n[01:44.49] He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n[01:47.18] Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n[01:49.45] I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n[01:52.17] When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n[01:55.39] It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n[01:58.68] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n[02:01.60] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n[02:04.15] It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n[02:04.94] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[02:07.98] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[02:10.45] Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n[02:13.10] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n[02:15.81] Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n[02:18.21] Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n[02:20.89] Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n[02:23.37] All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n[02:26.01] Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n[02:28.66] I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n[02:31.21] Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n[02:33.89] You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n[02:36.41] You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n[02:38.78] And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n[02:41.69] And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n[02:44.29] So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n[02:47.05] You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n[02:49.44] You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n[02:51.85] Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n[02:54.53] Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n[02:57.29] 'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n[02:59.64] In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n[03:02.60] That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n[03:05.21] Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n[03:07.76] Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n[03:10.36] Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n[03:12.93] Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n[03:15.56] And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:18.21] Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:20.85] Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n[03:25.12] Punk bitch (Real)\n[03:27.97] Punk bitch, huh\n\n[03:28.73] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:31.67] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[03:34.19] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:36.75] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[03:39.47] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[03:42.07] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[03:44.59] Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n[03:47.19] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n[03:53.32] 'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n[04:17.20] Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n[04:21.29] Hey, what's up?\n[04:23.78] Yo, what's good?\n[04:26.65] Hey\n[04:28.01] Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n[04:31.29] Nah, fuck\n[04:46.77] Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n[04:48.61] The person you're trying to reach\n[04:49.90] Fuck\n[04:50.34] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Poor Thang\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: The Fall-Off (explicit)\n  duration_ms: 290000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: So close\n  start_ms: 2030\n  end_ms: 3300\n- text: Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  start_ms: 3300\n  end_ms: 10680\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 10680\n  end_ms: 13240\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 13240\n  end_ms: 15000\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 15000\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 21160\n- text: Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  start_ms: 21160\n  end_ms: 23800\n- text: Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  start_ms: 23800\n  end_ms: 26360\n- text: If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  start_ms: 26360\n  end_ms: 28000\n- text: Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  start_ms: 28000\n  end_ms: 31680\n- text: And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  start_ms: 31680\n  end_ms: 33790\n- text: But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  start_ms: 33790\n  end_ms: 36360\n- text: The temperaturе's low\n  start_ms: 36360\n  end_ms: 37400\n- text: But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  start_ms: 37400\n  end_ms: 42080\n- text: Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  start_ms: 42080\n  end_ms: 45630\n- text: Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  start_ms: 45630\n  end_ms: 48190\n- text: Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  start_ms: 48190\n  end_ms: 49790\n- text: Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  start_ms: 49790\n  end_ms: 52470\n- text: Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  start_ms: 52470\n  end_ms: 54880\n- text: Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  start_ms: 54880\n  end_ms: 57800\n- text: My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  start_ms: 57800\n  end_ms: 60520\n- text: And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  start_ms: 60520\n  end_ms: 62870\n- text: I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  start_ms: 62870\n  end_ms: 65470\n- text: Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  start_ms: 65470\n  end_ms: 68190\n- text: Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  start_ms: 68190\n  end_ms: 70750\n- text: Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n  start_ms: 70750\n  end_ms: 73350\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 73350\n  end_ms: 75870\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 75870\n  end_ms: 78550\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 78550\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 83710\n- text: You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  start_ms: 83710\n  end_ms: 85670\n- text: You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  start_ms: 85670\n  end_ms: 88020\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  start_ms: 88020\n  end_ms: 90550\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  start_ms: 90550\n  end_ms: 93190\n- text: You wanna—\n  start_ms: 93190\n  end_ms: 93900\n- text: Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  start_ms: 93900\n  end_ms: 96500\n- text: This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  start_ms: 96500\n  end_ms: 99130\n- text: You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  start_ms: 99130\n  end_ms: 101610\n- text: You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  start_ms: 101610\n  end_ms: 104490\n- text: He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  start_ms: 104490\n  end_ms: 107180\n- text: Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  start_ms: 107180\n  end_ms: 109450\n- text: I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  start_ms: 109450\n  end_ms: 112170\n- text: When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  start_ms: 112170\n  end_ms: 115390\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  start_ms: 115390\n  end_ms: 118680\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  start_ms: 118680\n  end_ms: 121600\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  start_ms: 121600\n  end_ms: 124150\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n  start_ms: 124150\n  end_ms: 124940\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 124940\n  end_ms: 127980\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 127980\n  end_ms: 130450\n- text: Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  start_ms: 130450\n  end_ms: 133100\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 133100\n  end_ms: 135810\n- text: Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 135810\n  end_ms: 138210\n- text: Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 138210\n  end_ms: 140890\n- text: Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 140890\n  end_ms: 143370\n- text: All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 143370\n  end_ms: 146010\n- text: Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 146010\n  end_ms: 148660\n- text: I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 148660\n  end_ms: 151210\n- text: Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 151210\n  end_ms: 153890\n- text: You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 153890\n  end_ms: 156410\n- text: You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 156410\n  end_ms: 158780\n- text: And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 158780\n  end_ms: 161690\n- text: And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 161690\n  end_ms: 164290\n- text: So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 164290\n  end_ms: 167050\n- text: You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 167050\n  end_ms: 169440\n- text: You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  start_ms: 169440\n  end_ms: 171850\n- text: Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  start_ms: 171850\n  end_ms: 174530\n- text: Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  start_ms: 174530\n  end_ms: 177290\n- text: '''Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched'\n  start_ms: 177290\n  end_ms: 179640\n- text: In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  start_ms: 179640\n  end_ms: 182600\n- text: That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 182600\n  end_ms: 185210\n- text: Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 185210\n  end_ms: 187760\n- text: Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  start_ms: 187760\n  end_ms: 190360\n- text: Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 190360\n  end_ms: 192930\n- text: Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 192930\n  end_ms: 195560\n- text: And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 195560\n  end_ms: 198210\n- text: Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 198210\n  end_ms: 200850\n- text: Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  start_ms: 200850\n  end_ms: 205120\n- text: Punk bitch (Real)\n  start_ms: 205120\n  end_ms: 207970\n- text: Punk bitch, huh\n  start_ms: 207970\n  end_ms: 208730\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 208730\n  end_ms: 211670\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 211670\n  end_ms: 214190\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 214190\n  end_ms: 216750\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 216750\n  end_ms: 219470\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 219470\n  end_ms: 222070\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 222070\n  end_ms: 224590\n- text: Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  start_ms: 224590\n  end_ms: 227190\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 227190\n  end_ms: 233320\n- text: '''Cause I''ve been through lots of things'\n  start_ms: 233320\n  end_ms: 257200\n- text: Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  start_ms: 257200\n  end_ms: 261290\n- text: Hey, what's up?\n  start_ms: 261290\n  end_ms: 263780\n- text: Yo, what's good?\n  start_ms: 263780\n  end_ms: 266650\n- text: Hey\n  start_ms: 266650\n  end_ms: 268010\n- text: Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  start_ms: 268010\n  end_ms: 271290\n- text: Nah, fuck\n  start_ms: 271290\n  end_ms: 286770\n- text: Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  start_ms: 286770\n  end_ms: 288610\n- text: The person you're trying to reach\n  start_ms: 288610\n  end_ms: 289900\n- text: Fuck\n  start_ms: 289900\n  end_ms: 290340\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 290340\nplain: |\n  So close\n  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  The temperaturе's low\n  But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  You wanna—\n\n  Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n  Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n  In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  Punk bitch (Real)\n  Punk bitch, huh\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n  Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  Hey, what's up?\n  Yo, what's good?\n  Hey\n  Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  Nah, fuck\n  Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  The person you're trying to reach\n  Fuck\n"},{"id":34910317,"name":"Poor Thang","trackName":"Poor Thang","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"Document","duration":290.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"So close\nBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nPicture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\nWhere niggas die over pride and live for the dough\nIf I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\nHopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\nAnd I'm conflicted with no digits to show\nBut fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\nThe temperaturе's low\nBut you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\nVicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\nPiss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\nFace, tits, for rent, owing\nFist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\nLives expire when niggas pride gets higher\nThan the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\nMy road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\nAnd tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\nI know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\nPost-traumatic stress on an immature brain\nLeaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\nNow he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nYou wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\nYou want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\nWe'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\nWe'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\nYou wanna—\n\nHere go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\nThis nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\nYou get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\nYou make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\nHe talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\nMan, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\nI know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\nWhen egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\nIt's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, live to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\nPlenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\nRent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\nWeren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\nAll of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\nGo 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\nI knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\nStarted rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\nYou more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\nYou can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\nAnd that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\nAnd you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\nSo how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\nYou a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\nYou ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\nMan, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\nMoved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\nIn the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\nThat's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\nWay before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\nHeard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\nWell, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\nGonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\nAnd don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nNah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nTryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\nPunk bitch (Real)\nPunk bitch, huh\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, get to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\nHey, what's up? Hey what's up\nHey, what's up?\nYo, what's good?\nHey\nHey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\nNah, fuck\nYour call has been forwarded to voicemail\nThe person you're trying to reach\nFuck\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.03] So close\n[00:03.30] Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n[00:10.68] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:13.24] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[00:15.00] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:18.51] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[00:21.16] Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n[00:23.80] Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n[00:26.36] If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n[00:28.00] Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n[00:31.68] And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n[00:33.79] But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n[00:36.36] The temperaturе's low\n[00:37.40] But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n[00:42.08] Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n[00:45.63] Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n[00:48.19] Face, tits, for rent, owing\n[00:49.79] Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n[00:52.47] Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n[00:54.88] Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n[00:57.80] My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n[01:00.52] And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n[01:02.87] I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n[01:05.47] Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n[01:08.19] Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n[01:10.75] Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n[01:13.35] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:15.87] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[01:18.55] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:21.07] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[01:23.71] You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n[01:25.67] You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n[01:28.02] We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n[01:30.55] We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n[01:33.19] You wanna—\n\n[01:33.90] Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n[01:36.50] This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n[01:39.13] You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n[01:41.61] You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n[01:44.49] He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n[01:47.18] Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n[01:49.45] I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n[01:52.17] When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n[01:55.39] It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n[01:58.68] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n[02:01.60] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n[02:04.15] It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n[02:04.94] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[02:07.98] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[02:10.45] Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n[02:13.10] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n[02:15.81] Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n[02:18.21] Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n[02:20.89] Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n[02:23.37] All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n[02:26.01] Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n[02:28.66] I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n[02:31.21] Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n[02:33.89] You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n[02:36.41] You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n[02:38.78] And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n[02:41.69] And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n[02:44.29] So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n[02:47.05] You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n[02:49.44] You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n[02:51.85] Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n[02:54.53] Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n[02:57.29] 'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n[02:59.64] In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n[03:02.60] That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n[03:05.21] Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n[03:07.76] Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n[03:10.36] Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n[03:12.93] Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n[03:15.56] And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:18.21] Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:20.85] Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n[03:25.12] Punk bitch (Real)\n[03:27.97] Punk bitch, huh\n\n[03:28.73] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:31.67] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[03:34.19] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:36.75] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[03:39.47] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[03:42.07] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[03:44.59] Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n[03:47.19] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n[03:53.32] 'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n[04:17.20] Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n[04:21.29] Hey, what's up?\n[04:23.78] Yo, what's good?\n[04:26.65] Hey\n[04:28.01] Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n[04:31.29] Nah, fuck\n[04:46.77] Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n[04:48.61] The person you're trying to reach\n[04:49.90] Fuck\n[04:50.34] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Poor Thang\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: Document\n  duration_ms: 290000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: So close\n  start_ms: 2030\n  end_ms: 3300\n- text: Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  start_ms: 3300\n  end_ms: 10680\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 10680\n  end_ms: 13240\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 13240\n  end_ms: 15000\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 15000\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 21160\n- text: Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  start_ms: 21160\n  end_ms: 23800\n- text: Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  start_ms: 23800\n  end_ms: 26360\n- text: If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  start_ms: 26360\n  end_ms: 28000\n- text: Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  start_ms: 28000\n  end_ms: 31680\n- text: And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  start_ms: 31680\n  end_ms: 33790\n- text: But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  start_ms: 33790\n  end_ms: 36360\n- text: The temperaturе's low\n  start_ms: 36360\n  end_ms: 37400\n- text: But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  start_ms: 37400\n  end_ms: 42080\n- text: Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  start_ms: 42080\n  end_ms: 45630\n- text: Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  start_ms: 45630\n  end_ms: 48190\n- text: Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  start_ms: 48190\n  end_ms: 49790\n- text: Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  start_ms: 49790\n  end_ms: 52470\n- text: Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  start_ms: 52470\n  end_ms: 54880\n- text: Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  start_ms: 54880\n  end_ms: 57800\n- text: My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  start_ms: 57800\n  end_ms: 60520\n- text: And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  start_ms: 60520\n  end_ms: 62870\n- text: I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  start_ms: 62870\n  end_ms: 65470\n- text: Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  start_ms: 65470\n  end_ms: 68190\n- text: Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  start_ms: 68190\n  end_ms: 70750\n- text: Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n  start_ms: 70750\n  end_ms: 73350\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 73350\n  end_ms: 75870\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 75870\n  end_ms: 78550\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 78550\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 83710\n- text: You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  start_ms: 83710\n  end_ms: 85670\n- text: You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  start_ms: 85670\n  end_ms: 88020\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  start_ms: 88020\n  end_ms: 90550\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  start_ms: 90550\n  end_ms: 93190\n- text: You wanna—\n  start_ms: 93190\n  end_ms: 93900\n- text: Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  start_ms: 93900\n  end_ms: 96500\n- text: This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  start_ms: 96500\n  end_ms: 99130\n- text: You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  start_ms: 99130\n  end_ms: 101610\n- text: You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  start_ms: 101610\n  end_ms: 104490\n- text: He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  start_ms: 104490\n  end_ms: 107180\n- text: Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  start_ms: 107180\n  end_ms: 109450\n- text: I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  start_ms: 109450\n  end_ms: 112170\n- text: When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  start_ms: 112170\n  end_ms: 115390\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  start_ms: 115390\n  end_ms: 118680\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  start_ms: 118680\n  end_ms: 121600\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  start_ms: 121600\n  end_ms: 124150\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n  start_ms: 124150\n  end_ms: 124940\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 124940\n  end_ms: 127980\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 127980\n  end_ms: 130450\n- text: Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  start_ms: 130450\n  end_ms: 133100\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 133100\n  end_ms: 135810\n- text: Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 135810\n  end_ms: 138210\n- text: Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 138210\n  end_ms: 140890\n- text: Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 140890\n  end_ms: 143370\n- text: All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 143370\n  end_ms: 146010\n- text: Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 146010\n  end_ms: 148660\n- text: I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 148660\n  end_ms: 151210\n- text: Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 151210\n  end_ms: 153890\n- text: You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 153890\n  end_ms: 156410\n- text: You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 156410\n  end_ms: 158780\n- text: And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 158780\n  end_ms: 161690\n- text: And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 161690\n  end_ms: 164290\n- text: So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 164290\n  end_ms: 167050\n- text: You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 167050\n  end_ms: 169440\n- text: You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  start_ms: 169440\n  end_ms: 171850\n- text: Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  start_ms: 171850\n  end_ms: 174530\n- text: Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  start_ms: 174530\n  end_ms: 177290\n- text: '''Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched'\n  start_ms: 177290\n  end_ms: 179640\n- text: In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  start_ms: 179640\n  end_ms: 182600\n- text: That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 182600\n  end_ms: 185210\n- text: Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 185210\n  end_ms: 187760\n- text: Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  start_ms: 187760\n  end_ms: 190360\n- text: Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 190360\n  end_ms: 192930\n- text: Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 192930\n  end_ms: 195560\n- text: And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 195560\n  end_ms: 198210\n- text: Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 198210\n  end_ms: 200850\n- text: Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  start_ms: 200850\n  end_ms: 205120\n- text: Punk bitch (Real)\n  start_ms: 205120\n  end_ms: 207970\n- text: Punk bitch, huh\n  start_ms: 207970\n  end_ms: 208730\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 208730\n  end_ms: 211670\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 211670\n  end_ms: 214190\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 214190\n  end_ms: 216750\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 216750\n  end_ms: 219470\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 219470\n  end_ms: 222070\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 222070\n  end_ms: 224590\n- text: Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  start_ms: 224590\n  end_ms: 227190\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 227190\n  end_ms: 233320\n- text: '''Cause I''ve been through lots of things'\n  start_ms: 233320\n  end_ms: 257200\n- text: Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  start_ms: 257200\n  end_ms: 261290\n- text: Hey, what's up?\n  start_ms: 261290\n  end_ms: 263780\n- text: Yo, what's good?\n  start_ms: 263780\n  end_ms: 266650\n- text: Hey\n  start_ms: 266650\n  end_ms: 268010\n- text: Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  start_ms: 268010\n  end_ms: 271290\n- text: Nah, fuck\n  start_ms: 271290\n  end_ms: 286770\n- text: Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  start_ms: 286770\n  end_ms: 288610\n- text: The person you're trying to reach\n  start_ms: 288610\n  end_ms: 289900\n- text: Fuck\n  start_ms: 289900\n  end_ms: 290340\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 290340\nplain: |\n  So close\n  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  The temperaturе's low\n  But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  You wanna—\n\n  Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n  Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n  In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  Punk bitch (Real)\n  Punk bitch, huh\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n  Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  Hey, what's up?\n  Yo, what's good?\n  Hey\n  Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  Nah, fuck\n  Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  The person you're trying to reach\n  Fuck\n"},{"id":34123767,"name":"Poor Thang","trackName":"Poor Thang","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"The Fall-Off","duration":248.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"So close\nBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nPicture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\nWhere niggas die over pride and live for the dough\nIf I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\nHopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\nAnd I'm conflicted with no digits to show\nBut fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\nThe temperaturе's low\nBut you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\nVicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\nPiss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\nFace, tits, for rent, owing\nFist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\nLives expire when niggas pride gets higher\nThan the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\nMy road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\nAnd tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\nI know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\nPost-traumatic stress on an immature brain\nLeaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\nNow he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nYou wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\nYou want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\nWe'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\nWe'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\nYou wanna—\n\nHere go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\nThis nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\nYou get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\nYou make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\nHe talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\nMan, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\nI know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\nWhen egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\nIt's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, live to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\nPlenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\nRent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\nWeren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\nAll of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\nGo 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\nI knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\nStarted rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\nYou more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\nYou can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\nAnd that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\nAnd you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\nSo how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\nYou a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\nYou ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\nMan, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\nMoved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\nIn the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\nThat's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\nWay before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\nHeard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\nWell, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\nGonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\nAnd don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nNah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nTryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\nPunk bitch (Real)\nPunk bitch, huh\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, get to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\nHey, what's up? Hey what's up\nHey, what's up?\nYo, what's good?\nHey\nHey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\nNah, fuck\nYour call has been forwarded to voicemail\nThe person you're trying to reach\nFuck\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.03] So close\n[00:03.30] Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n[00:10.68] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:13.24] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[00:15.00] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:18.51] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[00:21.16] Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n[00:23.80] Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n[00:26.36] If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n[00:28.00] Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n[00:31.68] And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n[00:33.79] But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n[00:36.36] The temperaturе's low\n[00:37.40] But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n[00:42.08] Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n[00:45.63] Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n[00:48.19] Face, tits, for rent, owing\n[00:49.79] Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n[00:52.47] Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n[00:54.88] Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n[00:57.80] My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n[01:00.52] And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n[01:02.87] I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n[01:05.47] Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n[01:08.19] Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n[01:10.75] Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n[01:13.35] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:15.87] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[01:18.55] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:21.07] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[01:23.71] You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n[01:25.67] You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n[01:28.02] We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n[01:30.55] We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n[01:33.19] You wanna—\n\n[01:33.90] Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n[01:36.50] This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n[01:39.13] You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n[01:41.61] You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n[01:44.49] He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n[01:47.18] Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n[01:49.45] I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n[01:52.17] When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n[01:55.39] It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n[01:58.68] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n[02:01.60] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n[02:04.15] It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n[02:04.94] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[02:07.98] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[02:10.45] Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n[02:13.10] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n[02:15.81] Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n[02:18.21] Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n[02:20.89] Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n[02:23.37] All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n[02:26.01] Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n[02:28.66] I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n[02:31.21] Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n[02:33.89] You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n[02:36.41] You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n[02:38.78] And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n[02:41.69] And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n[02:44.29] So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n[02:47.05] You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n[02:49.44] You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n[02:51.85] Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n[02:54.53] Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n[02:57.29] 'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n[02:59.64] In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n[03:02.60] That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n[03:05.21] Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n[03:07.76] Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n[03:10.36] Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n[03:12.93] Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n[03:15.56] And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:18.21] Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:20.85] Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n[03:25.12] Punk bitch (Real)\n[03:27.97] Punk bitch, huh\n\n[03:28.73] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:31.67] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[03:34.19] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:36.75] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[03:39.47] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[03:42.07] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[03:44.59] Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n[03:47.19] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n[03:53.32] 'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n[04:17.20] Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n[04:21.29] Hey, what's up?\n[04:23.78] Yo, what's good?\n[04:26.65] Hey\n[04:28.01] Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n[04:31.29] Nah, fuck\n[04:46.77] Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n[04:48.61] The person you're trying to reach\n[04:49.90] Fuck\n[04:50.34] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Poor Thang\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: The Fall-Off\n  duration_ms: 248000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: So close\n  start_ms: 2030\n  end_ms: 3300\n- text: Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  start_ms: 3300\n  end_ms: 10680\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 10680\n  end_ms: 13240\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 13240\n  end_ms: 15000\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 15000\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 21160\n- text: Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  start_ms: 21160\n  end_ms: 23800\n- text: Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  start_ms: 23800\n  end_ms: 26360\n- text: If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  start_ms: 26360\n  end_ms: 28000\n- text: Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  start_ms: 28000\n  end_ms: 31680\n- text: And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  start_ms: 31680\n  end_ms: 33790\n- text: But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  start_ms: 33790\n  end_ms: 36360\n- text: The temperaturе's low\n  start_ms: 36360\n  end_ms: 37400\n- text: But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  start_ms: 37400\n  end_ms: 42080\n- text: Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  start_ms: 42080\n  end_ms: 45630\n- text: Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  start_ms: 45630\n  end_ms: 48190\n- text: Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  start_ms: 48190\n  end_ms: 49790\n- text: Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  start_ms: 49790\n  end_ms: 52470\n- text: Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  start_ms: 52470\n  end_ms: 54880\n- text: Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  start_ms: 54880\n  end_ms: 57800\n- text: My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  start_ms: 57800\n  end_ms: 60520\n- text: And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  start_ms: 60520\n  end_ms: 62870\n- text: I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  start_ms: 62870\n  end_ms: 65470\n- text: Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  start_ms: 65470\n  end_ms: 68190\n- text: Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  start_ms: 68190\n  end_ms: 70750\n- text: Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n  start_ms: 70750\n  end_ms: 73350\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 73350\n  end_ms: 75870\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 75870\n  end_ms: 78550\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 78550\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 83710\n- text: You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  start_ms: 83710\n  end_ms: 85670\n- text: You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  start_ms: 85670\n  end_ms: 88020\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  start_ms: 88020\n  end_ms: 90550\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  start_ms: 90550\n  end_ms: 93190\n- text: You wanna—\n  start_ms: 93190\n  end_ms: 93900\n- text: Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  start_ms: 93900\n  end_ms: 96500\n- text: This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  start_ms: 96500\n  end_ms: 99130\n- text: You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  start_ms: 99130\n  end_ms: 101610\n- text: You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  start_ms: 101610\n  end_ms: 104490\n- text: He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  start_ms: 104490\n  end_ms: 107180\n- text: Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  start_ms: 107180\n  end_ms: 109450\n- text: I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  start_ms: 109450\n  end_ms: 112170\n- text: When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  start_ms: 112170\n  end_ms: 115390\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  start_ms: 115390\n  end_ms: 118680\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  start_ms: 118680\n  end_ms: 121600\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  start_ms: 121600\n  end_ms: 124150\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n  start_ms: 124150\n  end_ms: 124940\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 124940\n  end_ms: 127980\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 127980\n  end_ms: 130450\n- text: Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  start_ms: 130450\n  end_ms: 133100\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 133100\n  end_ms: 135810\n- text: Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 135810\n  end_ms: 138210\n- text: Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 138210\n  end_ms: 140890\n- text: Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 140890\n  end_ms: 143370\n- text: All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 143370\n  end_ms: 146010\n- text: Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 146010\n  end_ms: 148660\n- text: I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 148660\n  end_ms: 151210\n- text: Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 151210\n  end_ms: 153890\n- text: You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 153890\n  end_ms: 156410\n- text: You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 156410\n  end_ms: 158780\n- text: And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 158780\n  end_ms: 161690\n- text: And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 161690\n  end_ms: 164290\n- text: So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 164290\n  end_ms: 167050\n- text: You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 167050\n  end_ms: 169440\n- text: You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  start_ms: 169440\n  end_ms: 171850\n- text: Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  start_ms: 171850\n  end_ms: 174530\n- text: Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  start_ms: 174530\n  end_ms: 177290\n- text: '''Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched'\n  start_ms: 177290\n  end_ms: 179640\n- text: In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  start_ms: 179640\n  end_ms: 182600\n- text: That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 182600\n  end_ms: 185210\n- text: Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 185210\n  end_ms: 187760\n- text: Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  start_ms: 187760\n  end_ms: 190360\n- text: Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 190360\n  end_ms: 192930\n- text: Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 192930\n  end_ms: 195560\n- text: And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 195560\n  end_ms: 198210\n- text: Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 198210\n  end_ms: 200850\n- text: Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  start_ms: 200850\n  end_ms: 205120\n- text: Punk bitch (Real)\n  start_ms: 205120\n  end_ms: 207970\n- text: Punk bitch, huh\n  start_ms: 207970\n  end_ms: 208730\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 208730\n  end_ms: 211670\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 211670\n  end_ms: 214190\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 214190\n  end_ms: 216750\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 216750\n  end_ms: 219470\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 219470\n  end_ms: 222070\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 222070\n  end_ms: 224590\n- text: Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  start_ms: 224590\n  end_ms: 227190\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 227190\n  end_ms: 233320\n- text: '''Cause I''ve been through lots of things'\n  start_ms: 233320\n  end_ms: 257200\n- text: Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  start_ms: 257200\n  end_ms: 261290\n- text: Hey, what's up?\n  start_ms: 261290\n  end_ms: 263780\n- text: Yo, what's good?\n  start_ms: 263780\n  end_ms: 266650\n- text: Hey\n  start_ms: 266650\n  end_ms: 268010\n- text: Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  start_ms: 268010\n  end_ms: 271290\n- text: Nah, fuck\n  start_ms: 271290\n  end_ms: 286770\n- text: Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  start_ms: 286770\n  end_ms: 288610\n- text: The person you're trying to reach\n  start_ms: 288610\n  end_ms: 289900\n- text: Fuck\n  start_ms: 289900\n  end_ms: 290340\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 290340\nplain: |\n  So close\n  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  The temperaturе's low\n  But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  You wanna—\n\n  Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n  Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n  In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  Punk bitch (Real)\n  Punk bitch, huh\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n  Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  Hey, what's up?\n  Yo, what's good?\n  Hey\n  Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  Nah, fuck\n  Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  The person you're trying to reach\n  Fuck\n"},{"id":27606303,"name":"Poor Thang","trackName":"Poor Thang","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"The Fall-Off","duration":291.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"So close\nBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nPicture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\nWhere niggas die over pride and live for the dough\nIf I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\nHopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\nAnd I'm conflicted with no digits to show\nBut fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\nThe temperaturе's low\nBut you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\nVicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\nPiss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\nFace, tits, for rent, owing\nFist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\nLives expire when niggas pride gets higher\nThan the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\nMy road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\nAnd tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\nI know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\nPost-traumatic stress on an immature brain\nLeaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\nNow he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nYou wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\nYou want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\nWe'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\nWe'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\nYou wanna—\n\nHere go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\nThis nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\nYou get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\nYou make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\nHe talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\nMan, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\nI know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\nWhen egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\nIt's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, live to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\nPlenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\nRent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\nWeren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\nAll of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\nGo 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\nI knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\nStarted rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\nYou more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\nYou can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\nAnd that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\nAnd you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\nSo how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\nYou a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\nYou ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\nMan, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\nMoved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\nIn the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\nThat's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\nWay before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\nHeard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\nWell, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\nGonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\nAnd don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nNah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nTryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\nPunk bitch (Real)\nPunk bitch, huh\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, get to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\nHey, what's up? Hey what's up\nHey, what's up?\nYo, what's good?\nHey\nHey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\nNah, fuck\nYour call has been forwarded to voicemail\nThe person you're trying to reach\nFuck\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.03] So close\n[00:03.30] Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n[00:10.68] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:13.24] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[00:15.00] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:18.51] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[00:21.16] Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n[00:23.80] Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n[00:26.36] If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n[00:28.00] Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n[00:31.68] And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n[00:33.79] But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n[00:36.36] The temperaturе's low\n[00:37.40] But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n[00:42.08] Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n[00:45.63] Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n[00:48.19] Face, tits, for rent, owing\n[00:49.79] Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n[00:52.47] Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n[00:54.88] Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n[00:57.80] My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n[01:00.52] And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n[01:02.87] I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n[01:05.47] Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n[01:08.19] Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n[01:10.75] Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n[01:13.35] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:15.87] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[01:18.55] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:21.07] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[01:23.71] You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n[01:25.67] You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n[01:28.02] We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n[01:30.55] We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n[01:33.19] You wanna—\n\n[01:33.90] Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n[01:36.50] This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n[01:39.13] You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n[01:41.61] You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n[01:44.49] He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n[01:47.18] Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n[01:49.45] I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n[01:52.17] When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n[01:55.39] It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n[01:58.68] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n[02:01.60] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n[02:04.15] It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n[02:04.94] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[02:07.98] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[02:10.45] Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n[02:13.10] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n[02:15.81] Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n[02:18.21] Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n[02:20.89] Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n[02:23.37] All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n[02:26.01] Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n[02:28.66] I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n[02:31.21] Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n[02:33.89] You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n[02:36.41] You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n[02:38.78] And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n[02:41.69] And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n[02:44.29] So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n[02:47.05] You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n[02:49.44] You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n[02:51.85] Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n[02:54.53] Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n[02:57.29] 'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n[02:59.64] In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n[03:02.60] That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n[03:05.21] Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n[03:07.76] Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n[03:10.36] Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n[03:12.93] Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n[03:15.56] And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:18.21] Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:20.85] Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n[03:25.12] Punk bitch (Real)\n[03:27.97] Punk bitch, huh\n\n[03:28.73] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:31.67] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[03:34.19] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:36.75] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[03:39.47] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[03:42.07] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[03:44.59] Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n[03:47.19] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n[03:53.32] 'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n[04:17.20] Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n[04:21.29] Hey, what's up?\n[04:23.78] Yo, what's good?\n[04:26.65] Hey\n[04:28.01] Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n[04:31.29] Nah, fuck\n[04:46.77] Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n[04:48.61] The person you're trying to reach\n[04:49.90] Fuck\n[04:50.34] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Poor Thang\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: The Fall-Off\n  duration_ms: 291000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: So close\n  start_ms: 2030\n  end_ms: 3300\n- text: Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  start_ms: 3300\n  end_ms: 10680\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 10680\n  end_ms: 13240\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 13240\n  end_ms: 15000\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 15000\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 21160\n- text: Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  start_ms: 21160\n  end_ms: 23800\n- text: Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  start_ms: 23800\n  end_ms: 26360\n- text: If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  start_ms: 26360\n  end_ms: 28000\n- text: Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  start_ms: 28000\n  end_ms: 31680\n- text: And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  start_ms: 31680\n  end_ms: 33790\n- text: But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  start_ms: 33790\n  end_ms: 36360\n- text: The temperaturе's low\n  start_ms: 36360\n  end_ms: 37400\n- text: But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  start_ms: 37400\n  end_ms: 42080\n- text: Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  start_ms: 42080\n  end_ms: 45630\n- text: Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  start_ms: 45630\n  end_ms: 48190\n- text: Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  start_ms: 48190\n  end_ms: 49790\n- text: Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  start_ms: 49790\n  end_ms: 52470\n- text: Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  start_ms: 52470\n  end_ms: 54880\n- text: Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  start_ms: 54880\n  end_ms: 57800\n- text: My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  start_ms: 57800\n  end_ms: 60520\n- text: And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  start_ms: 60520\n  end_ms: 62870\n- text: I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  start_ms: 62870\n  end_ms: 65470\n- text: Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  start_ms: 65470\n  end_ms: 68190\n- text: Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  start_ms: 68190\n  end_ms: 70750\n- text: Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n  start_ms: 70750\n  end_ms: 73350\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 73350\n  end_ms: 75870\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 75870\n  end_ms: 78550\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 78550\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 83710\n- text: You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  start_ms: 83710\n  end_ms: 85670\n- text: You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  start_ms: 85670\n  end_ms: 88020\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  start_ms: 88020\n  end_ms: 90550\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  start_ms: 90550\n  end_ms: 93190\n- text: You wanna—\n  start_ms: 93190\n  end_ms: 93900\n- text: Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  start_ms: 93900\n  end_ms: 96500\n- text: This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  start_ms: 96500\n  end_ms: 99130\n- text: You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  start_ms: 99130\n  end_ms: 101610\n- text: You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  start_ms: 101610\n  end_ms: 104490\n- text: He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  start_ms: 104490\n  end_ms: 107180\n- text: Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  start_ms: 107180\n  end_ms: 109450\n- text: I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  start_ms: 109450\n  end_ms: 112170\n- text: When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  start_ms: 112170\n  end_ms: 115390\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  start_ms: 115390\n  end_ms: 118680\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  start_ms: 118680\n  end_ms: 121600\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  start_ms: 121600\n  end_ms: 124150\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n  start_ms: 124150\n  end_ms: 124940\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 124940\n  end_ms: 127980\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 127980\n  end_ms: 130450\n- text: Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  start_ms: 130450\n  end_ms: 133100\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 133100\n  end_ms: 135810\n- text: Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 135810\n  end_ms: 138210\n- text: Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 138210\n  end_ms: 140890\n- text: Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 140890\n  end_ms: 143370\n- text: All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 143370\n  end_ms: 146010\n- text: Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 146010\n  end_ms: 148660\n- text: I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 148660\n  end_ms: 151210\n- text: Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 151210\n  end_ms: 153890\n- text: You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 153890\n  end_ms: 156410\n- text: You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 156410\n  end_ms: 158780\n- text: And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 158780\n  end_ms: 161690\n- text: And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 161690\n  end_ms: 164290\n- text: So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 164290\n  end_ms: 167050\n- text: You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 167050\n  end_ms: 169440\n- text: You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  start_ms: 169440\n  end_ms: 171850\n- text: Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  start_ms: 171850\n  end_ms: 174530\n- text: Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  start_ms: 174530\n  end_ms: 177290\n- text: '''Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched'\n  start_ms: 177290\n  end_ms: 179640\n- text: In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  start_ms: 179640\n  end_ms: 182600\n- text: That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 182600\n  end_ms: 185210\n- text: Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 185210\n  end_ms: 187760\n- text: Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  start_ms: 187760\n  end_ms: 190360\n- text: Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 190360\n  end_ms: 192930\n- text: Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 192930\n  end_ms: 195560\n- text: And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 195560\n  end_ms: 198210\n- text: Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 198210\n  end_ms: 200850\n- text: Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  start_ms: 200850\n  end_ms: 205120\n- text: Punk bitch (Real)\n  start_ms: 205120\n  end_ms: 207970\n- text: Punk bitch, huh\n  start_ms: 207970\n  end_ms: 208730\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 208730\n  end_ms: 211670\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 211670\n  end_ms: 214190\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 214190\n  end_ms: 216750\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 216750\n  end_ms: 219470\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 219470\n  end_ms: 222070\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 222070\n  end_ms: 224590\n- text: Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  start_ms: 224590\n  end_ms: 227190\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 227190\n  end_ms: 233320\n- text: '''Cause I''ve been through lots of things'\n  start_ms: 233320\n  end_ms: 257200\n- text: Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  start_ms: 257200\n  end_ms: 261290\n- text: Hey, what's up?\n  start_ms: 261290\n  end_ms: 263780\n- text: Yo, what's good?\n  start_ms: 263780\n  end_ms: 266650\n- text: Hey\n  start_ms: 266650\n  end_ms: 268010\n- text: Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  start_ms: 268010\n  end_ms: 271290\n- text: Nah, fuck\n  start_ms: 271290\n  end_ms: 286770\n- text: Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  start_ms: 286770\n  end_ms: 288610\n- text: The person you're trying to reach\n  start_ms: 288610\n  end_ms: 289900\n- text: Fuck\n  start_ms: 289900\n  end_ms: 290340\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 290340\nplain: |\n  So close\n  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  The temperaturе's low\n  But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  You wanna—\n\n  Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n  Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n  In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  Punk bitch (Real)\n  Punk bitch, huh\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n  Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  Hey, what's up?\n  Yo, what's good?\n  Hey\n  Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  Nah, fuck\n  Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  The person you're trying to reach\n  Fuck\n"},{"id":27676140,"name":"Poor Thang","trackName":"Poor Thang","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"The Fall-Off","duration":293.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"So close\nBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nPicture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\nWhere niggas die over pride and live for the dough\nIf I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\nHopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\nAnd I'm conflicted with no digits to show\nBut fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\nThe temperaturе's low\nBut you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\nVicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\nPiss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\nFace, tits, for rent, owing\nFist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\nLives expire when niggas pride gets higher\nThan the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\nMy road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\nAnd tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\nI know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\nPost-traumatic stress on an immature brain\nLeaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\nNow he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nYou wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\nYou want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\nWe'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\nWe'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\nYou wanna—\n\nHere go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\nThis nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\nYou get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\nYou make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\nHe talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\nMan, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\nI know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\nWhen egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\nIt's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, live to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\nPlenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\nRent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\nWeren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\nAll of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\nGo 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\nI knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\nStarted rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\nYou more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\nYou can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\nAnd that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\nAnd you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\nSo how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\nYou a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\nYou ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\nMan, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\nMoved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\nIn the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\nThat's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\nWay before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\nHeard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\nWell, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\nGonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\nAnd don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nNah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nTryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\nPunk bitch (Real)\nPunk bitch, huh\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, get to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\nHey, what's up? Hey what's up\nHey, what's up?\nYo, what's good?\nHey\nHey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\nNah, fuck\nYour call has been forwarded to voicemail\nThe person you're trying to reach\nFuck\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.03] So close\n[00:03.30] Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n[00:10.68] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:13.24] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[00:15.00] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:18.51] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[00:21.16] Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n[00:23.80] Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n[00:26.36] If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n[00:28.00] Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n[00:31.68] And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n[00:33.79] But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n[00:36.36] The temperaturе's low\n[00:37.40] But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n[00:42.08] Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n[00:45.63] Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n[00:48.19] Face, tits, for rent, owing\n[00:49.79] Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n[00:52.47] Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n[00:54.88] Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n[00:57.80] My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n[01:00.52] And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n[01:02.87] I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n[01:05.47] Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n[01:08.19] Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n[01:10.75] Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n[01:13.35] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:15.87] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[01:18.55] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:21.07] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[01:23.71] You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n[01:25.67] You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n[01:28.02] We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n[01:30.55] We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n[01:33.19] You wanna—\n\n[01:33.90] Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n[01:36.50] This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n[01:39.13] You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n[01:41.61] You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n[01:44.49] He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n[01:47.18] Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n[01:49.45] I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n[01:52.17] When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n[01:55.39] It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n[01:58.68] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n[02:01.60] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n[02:04.15] It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n[02:04.94] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[02:07.98] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[02:10.45] Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n[02:13.10] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n[02:15.81] Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n[02:18.21] Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n[02:20.89] Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n[02:23.37] All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n[02:26.01] Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n[02:28.66] I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n[02:31.21] Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n[02:33.89] You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n[02:36.41] You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n[02:38.78] And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n[02:41.69] And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n[02:44.29] So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n[02:47.05] You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n[02:49.44] You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n[02:51.85] Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n[02:54.53] Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n[02:57.29] 'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n[02:59.64] In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n[03:02.60] That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n[03:05.21] Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n[03:07.76] Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n[03:10.36] Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n[03:12.93] Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n[03:15.56] And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:18.21] Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:20.85] Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n[03:25.12] Punk bitch (Real)\n[03:27.97] Punk bitch, huh\n\n[03:28.73] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:31.67] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[03:34.19] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:36.75] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[03:39.47] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[03:42.07] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[03:44.59] Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n[03:47.19] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n[03:53.32] 'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n[04:17.20] Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n[04:21.29] Hey, what's up?\n[04:23.78] Yo, what's good?\n[04:26.65] Hey\n[04:28.01] Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n[04:31.29] Nah, fuck\n[04:46.77] Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n[04:48.61] The person you're trying to reach\n[04:49.90] Fuck\n[04:50.34] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Poor Thang\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: The Fall-Off\n  duration_ms: 293000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: So close\n  start_ms: 2030\n  end_ms: 3300\n- text: Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  start_ms: 3300\n  end_ms: 10680\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 10680\n  end_ms: 13240\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 13240\n  end_ms: 15000\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 15000\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 21160\n- text: Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  start_ms: 21160\n  end_ms: 23800\n- text: Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  start_ms: 23800\n  end_ms: 26360\n- text: If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  start_ms: 26360\n  end_ms: 28000\n- text: Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  start_ms: 28000\n  end_ms: 31680\n- text: And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  start_ms: 31680\n  end_ms: 33790\n- text: But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  start_ms: 33790\n  end_ms: 36360\n- text: The temperaturе's low\n  start_ms: 36360\n  end_ms: 37400\n- text: But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  start_ms: 37400\n  end_ms: 42080\n- text: Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  start_ms: 42080\n  end_ms: 45630\n- text: Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  start_ms: 45630\n  end_ms: 48190\n- text: Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  start_ms: 48190\n  end_ms: 49790\n- text: Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  start_ms: 49790\n  end_ms: 52470\n- text: Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  start_ms: 52470\n  end_ms: 54880\n- text: Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  start_ms: 54880\n  end_ms: 57800\n- text: My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  start_ms: 57800\n  end_ms: 60520\n- text: And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  start_ms: 60520\n  end_ms: 62870\n- text: I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  start_ms: 62870\n  end_ms: 65470\n- text: Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  start_ms: 65470\n  end_ms: 68190\n- text: Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  start_ms: 68190\n  end_ms: 70750\n- text: Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n  start_ms: 70750\n  end_ms: 73350\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 73350\n  end_ms: 75870\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 75870\n  end_ms: 78550\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 78550\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 83710\n- text: You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  start_ms: 83710\n  end_ms: 85670\n- text: You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  start_ms: 85670\n  end_ms: 88020\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  start_ms: 88020\n  end_ms: 90550\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  start_ms: 90550\n  end_ms: 93190\n- text: You wanna—\n  start_ms: 93190\n  end_ms: 93900\n- text: Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  start_ms: 93900\n  end_ms: 96500\n- text: This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  start_ms: 96500\n  end_ms: 99130\n- text: You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  start_ms: 99130\n  end_ms: 101610\n- text: You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  start_ms: 101610\n  end_ms: 104490\n- text: He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  start_ms: 104490\n  end_ms: 107180\n- text: Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  start_ms: 107180\n  end_ms: 109450\n- text: I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  start_ms: 109450\n  end_ms: 112170\n- text: When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  start_ms: 112170\n  end_ms: 115390\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  start_ms: 115390\n  end_ms: 118680\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  start_ms: 118680\n  end_ms: 121600\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  start_ms: 121600\n  end_ms: 124150\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n  start_ms: 124150\n  end_ms: 124940\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 124940\n  end_ms: 127980\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 127980\n  end_ms: 130450\n- text: Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  start_ms: 130450\n  end_ms: 133100\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 133100\n  end_ms: 135810\n- text: Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 135810\n  end_ms: 138210\n- text: Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 138210\n  end_ms: 140890\n- text: Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 140890\n  end_ms: 143370\n- text: All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 143370\n  end_ms: 146010\n- text: Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 146010\n  end_ms: 148660\n- text: I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 148660\n  end_ms: 151210\n- text: Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 151210\n  end_ms: 153890\n- text: You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 153890\n  end_ms: 156410\n- text: You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 156410\n  end_ms: 158780\n- text: And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 158780\n  end_ms: 161690\n- text: And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 161690\n  end_ms: 164290\n- text: So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 164290\n  end_ms: 167050\n- text: You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 167050\n  end_ms: 169440\n- text: You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  start_ms: 169440\n  end_ms: 171850\n- text: Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  start_ms: 171850\n  end_ms: 174530\n- text: Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  start_ms: 174530\n  end_ms: 177290\n- text: '''Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched'\n  start_ms: 177290\n  end_ms: 179640\n- text: In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  start_ms: 179640\n  end_ms: 182600\n- text: That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 182600\n  end_ms: 185210\n- text: Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 185210\n  end_ms: 187760\n- text: Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  start_ms: 187760\n  end_ms: 190360\n- text: Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 190360\n  end_ms: 192930\n- text: Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 192930\n  end_ms: 195560\n- text: And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 195560\n  end_ms: 198210\n- text: Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 198210\n  end_ms: 200850\n- text: Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  start_ms: 200850\n  end_ms: 205120\n- text: Punk bitch (Real)\n  start_ms: 205120\n  end_ms: 207970\n- text: Punk bitch, huh\n  start_ms: 207970\n  end_ms: 208730\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 208730\n  end_ms: 211670\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 211670\n  end_ms: 214190\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 214190\n  end_ms: 216750\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 216750\n  end_ms: 219470\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 219470\n  end_ms: 222070\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 222070\n  end_ms: 224590\n- text: Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  start_ms: 224590\n  end_ms: 227190\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 227190\n  end_ms: 233320\n- text: '''Cause I''ve been through lots of things'\n  start_ms: 233320\n  end_ms: 257200\n- text: Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  start_ms: 257200\n  end_ms: 261290\n- text: Hey, what's up?\n  start_ms: 261290\n  end_ms: 263780\n- text: Yo, what's good?\n  start_ms: 263780\n  end_ms: 266650\n- text: Hey\n  start_ms: 266650\n  end_ms: 268010\n- text: Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  start_ms: 268010\n  end_ms: 271290\n- text: Nah, fuck\n  start_ms: 271290\n  end_ms: 286770\n- text: Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  start_ms: 286770\n  end_ms: 288610\n- text: The person you're trying to reach\n  start_ms: 288610\n  end_ms: 289900\n- text: Fuck\n  start_ms: 289900\n  end_ms: 290340\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 290340\nplain: |\n  So close\n  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  The temperaturе's low\n  But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  You wanna—\n\n  Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n  Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n  In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  Punk bitch (Real)\n  Punk bitch, huh\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n  Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  Hey, what's up?\n  Yo, what's good?\n  Hey\n  Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  Nah, fuck\n  Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  The person you're trying to reach\n  Fuck\n"},{"id":27356355,"name":"Poor Thang","trackName":"Poor Thang","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"The Fall-Off","duration":290.353,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"So close\nBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\nBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nPicture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\nWhere niggas die over pride and live for the dough\nIf I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\nHopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\nAnd I'm conflicted with no digits to show\nBut fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\nThe temperaturе's low\nBut you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\nVicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\nPiss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\nFace, tits, for rent, owing\nFist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\nLives expire when niggas pride gets higher\nThan the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\nMy road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\nAnd tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\nI know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\nPost-traumatic stress on an immature brain\nLeaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\nNow he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nYou wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\nYou want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\nWe'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\nWe'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\nYou wanna—\n\nHere go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\nThis nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\nYou get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\nYou make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\nHe talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\nMan, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\nI know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\nWhen egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\nIt's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, live to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\nPlenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\nRent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\nWeren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\nAll of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\nGo 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\nI knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\nStarted rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\nYou more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\nYou can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\nAnd that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\nAnd you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\nSo how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\nYou a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\nYou ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\nMan, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\nMoved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\nIn the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\nThat's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\nWay before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\nHeard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\nWell, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\nGonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\nAnd don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nNah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nTryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\nPunk bitch (Real)\nPunk bitch, huh\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, get to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\nHey, what's up? Hey what's up\nHey, what's up?\nYo, what's good?\nHey\nHey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\nNah, fuck\nYour call has been forwarded to voicemail\nThe person you're trying to reach\nFuck","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Poor Thang\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: The Fall-Off\n  duration_ms: 290353\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  So close\n  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  The temperaturе's low\n  But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  You wanna—\n\n  Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n  Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n  In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  Punk bitch (Real)\n  Punk bitch, huh\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n  Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  Hey, what's up?\n  Yo, what's good?\n  Hey\n  Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  Nah, fuck\n  Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  The person you're trying to reach\n  Fuck\n"},{"id":27314331,"name":"Poor Thang","trackName":"Poor Thang","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"The Fall-Off","duration":290.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"So close\nBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nPicture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\nWhere niggas die over pride and live for the dough\nIf I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\nHopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\nAnd I'm conflicted with no digits to show\nBut fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\nThe temperaturе's low\nBut you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\nVicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\nPiss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\nFace, tits, for rent, owing\nFist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\nLives expire when niggas pride gets higher\nThan the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\nMy road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\nAnd tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\nI know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\nPost-traumatic stress on an immature brain\nLeaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\nNow he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nYou wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\nYou want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\nWe'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\nWe'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\nYou wanna—\n\nHere go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\nThis nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\nYou get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\nYou make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\nHe talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\nMan, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\nI know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\nWhen egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\nIt's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, live to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\nPlenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\nRent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\nWeren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\nAll of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\nGo 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\nI knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\nStarted rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\nYou more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\nYou can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\nAnd that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\nAnd you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\nSo how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\nYou a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\nYou ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\nMan, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\nMoved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\nIn the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\nThat's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\nWay before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\nHeard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\nWell, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\nGonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\nAnd don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nNah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nTryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\nPunk bitch (Real)\nPunk bitch, huh\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, get to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\nHey, what's up? Hey what's up\nHey, what's up?\nYo, what's good?\nHey\nHey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\nNah, fuck\nYour call has been forwarded to voicemail\nThe person you're trying to reach\nFuck\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.03] So close\n[00:03.30] Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n[00:10.68] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:13.24] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[00:15.00] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:18.51] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[00:21.16] Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n[00:23.80] Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n[00:26.36] If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n[00:28.00] Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n[00:31.68] And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n[00:33.79] But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n[00:36.36] The temperaturе's low\n[00:37.40] But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n[00:42.08] Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n[00:45.63] Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n[00:48.19] Face, tits, for rent, owing\n[00:49.79] Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n[00:52.47] Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n[00:54.88] Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n[00:57.80] My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n[01:00.52] And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n[01:02.87] I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n[01:05.47] Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n[01:08.19] Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n[01:10.75] Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n[01:13.35] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:15.87] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[01:18.55] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:21.07] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[01:23.71] You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n[01:25.67] You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n[01:28.02] We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n[01:30.55] We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n[01:33.19] You wanna—\n\n[01:33.90] Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n[01:36.50] This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n[01:39.13] You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n[01:41.61] You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n[01:44.49] He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n[01:47.18] Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n[01:49.45] I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n[01:52.17] When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n[01:55.39] It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n[01:58.68] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n[02:01.60] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n[02:04.15] It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n[02:04.94] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[02:07.98] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[02:10.45] Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n[02:13.10] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n[02:15.81] Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n[02:18.21] Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n[02:20.89] Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n[02:23.37] All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n[02:26.01] Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n[02:28.66] I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n[02:31.21] Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n[02:33.89] You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n[02:36.41] You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n[02:38.78] And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n[02:41.69] And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n[02:44.29] So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n[02:47.05] You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n[02:49.44] You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n[02:51.85] Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n[02:54.53] Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n[02:57.29] 'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n[02:59.64] In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n[03:02.60] That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n[03:05.21] Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n[03:07.76] Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n[03:10.36] Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n[03:12.93] Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n[03:15.56] And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:18.21] Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:20.85] Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n[03:25.12] Punk bitch (Real)\n[03:27.97] Punk bitch, huh\n\n[03:28.73] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:31.67] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[03:34.19] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:36.75] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[03:39.47] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[03:42.07] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[03:44.59] Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n[03:47.19] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n[03:53.32] 'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n[04:17.20] Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n[04:21.29] Hey, what's up?\n[04:23.78] Yo, what's good?\n[04:26.65] Hey\n[04:28.01] Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n[04:31.29] Nah, fuck\n[04:46.77] Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n[04:48.61] The person you're trying to reach\n[04:49.90] Fuck\n[04:50.34] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Poor Thang\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: The Fall-Off\n  duration_ms: 290000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: So close\n  start_ms: 2030\n  end_ms: 3300\n- text: Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  start_ms: 3300\n  end_ms: 10680\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 10680\n  end_ms: 13240\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 13240\n  end_ms: 15000\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 15000\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 21160\n- text: Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  start_ms: 21160\n  end_ms: 23800\n- text: Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  start_ms: 23800\n  end_ms: 26360\n- text: If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  start_ms: 26360\n  end_ms: 28000\n- text: Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  start_ms: 28000\n  end_ms: 31680\n- text: And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  start_ms: 31680\n  end_ms: 33790\n- text: But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  start_ms: 33790\n  end_ms: 36360\n- text: The temperaturе's low\n  start_ms: 36360\n  end_ms: 37400\n- text: But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  start_ms: 37400\n  end_ms: 42080\n- text: Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  start_ms: 42080\n  end_ms: 45630\n- text: Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  start_ms: 45630\n  end_ms: 48190\n- text: Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  start_ms: 48190\n  end_ms: 49790\n- text: Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  start_ms: 49790\n  end_ms: 52470\n- text: Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  start_ms: 52470\n  end_ms: 54880\n- text: Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  start_ms: 54880\n  end_ms: 57800\n- text: My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  start_ms: 57800\n  end_ms: 60520\n- text: And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  start_ms: 60520\n  end_ms: 62870\n- text: I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  start_ms: 62870\n  end_ms: 65470\n- text: Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  start_ms: 65470\n  end_ms: 68190\n- text: Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  start_ms: 68190\n  end_ms: 70750\n- text: Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n  start_ms: 70750\n  end_ms: 73350\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 73350\n  end_ms: 75870\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 75870\n  end_ms: 78550\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 78550\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 83710\n- text: You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  start_ms: 83710\n  end_ms: 85670\n- text: You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  start_ms: 85670\n  end_ms: 88020\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  start_ms: 88020\n  end_ms: 90550\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  start_ms: 90550\n  end_ms: 93190\n- text: You wanna—\n  start_ms: 93190\n  end_ms: 93900\n- text: Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  start_ms: 93900\n  end_ms: 96500\n- text: This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  start_ms: 96500\n  end_ms: 99130\n- text: You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  start_ms: 99130\n  end_ms: 101610\n- text: You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  start_ms: 101610\n  end_ms: 104490\n- text: He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  start_ms: 104490\n  end_ms: 107180\n- text: Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  start_ms: 107180\n  end_ms: 109450\n- text: I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  start_ms: 109450\n  end_ms: 112170\n- text: When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  start_ms: 112170\n  end_ms: 115390\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  start_ms: 115390\n  end_ms: 118680\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  start_ms: 118680\n  end_ms: 121600\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  start_ms: 121600\n  end_ms: 124150\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n  start_ms: 124150\n  end_ms: 124940\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 124940\n  end_ms: 127980\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 127980\n  end_ms: 130450\n- text: Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  start_ms: 130450\n  end_ms: 133100\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 133100\n  end_ms: 135810\n- text: Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 135810\n  end_ms: 138210\n- text: Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 138210\n  end_ms: 140890\n- text: Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 140890\n  end_ms: 143370\n- text: All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 143370\n  end_ms: 146010\n- text: Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 146010\n  end_ms: 148660\n- text: I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 148660\n  end_ms: 151210\n- text: Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 151210\n  end_ms: 153890\n- text: You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 153890\n  end_ms: 156410\n- text: You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 156410\n  end_ms: 158780\n- text: And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 158780\n  end_ms: 161690\n- text: And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 161690\n  end_ms: 164290\n- text: So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 164290\n  end_ms: 167050\n- text: You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 167050\n  end_ms: 169440\n- text: You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  start_ms: 169440\n  end_ms: 171850\n- text: Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  start_ms: 171850\n  end_ms: 174530\n- text: Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  start_ms: 174530\n  end_ms: 177290\n- text: '''Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched'\n  start_ms: 177290\n  end_ms: 179640\n- text: In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  start_ms: 179640\n  end_ms: 182600\n- text: That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 182600\n  end_ms: 185210\n- text: Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 185210\n  end_ms: 187760\n- text: Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  start_ms: 187760\n  end_ms: 190360\n- text: Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 190360\n  end_ms: 192930\n- text: Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 192930\n  end_ms: 195560\n- text: And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 195560\n  end_ms: 198210\n- text: Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 198210\n  end_ms: 200850\n- text: Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  start_ms: 200850\n  end_ms: 205120\n- text: Punk bitch (Real)\n  start_ms: 205120\n  end_ms: 207970\n- text: Punk bitch, huh\n  start_ms: 207970\n  end_ms: 208730\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 208730\n  end_ms: 211670\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 211670\n  end_ms: 214190\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 214190\n  end_ms: 216750\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 216750\n  end_ms: 219470\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 219470\n  end_ms: 222070\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 222070\n  end_ms: 224590\n- text: Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  start_ms: 224590\n  end_ms: 227190\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 227190\n  end_ms: 233320\n- text: '''Cause I''ve been through lots of things'\n  start_ms: 233320\n  end_ms: 257200\n- text: Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  start_ms: 257200\n  end_ms: 261290\n- text: Hey, what's up?\n  start_ms: 261290\n  end_ms: 263780\n- text: Yo, what's good?\n  start_ms: 263780\n  end_ms: 266650\n- text: Hey\n  start_ms: 266650\n  end_ms: 268010\n- text: Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  start_ms: 268010\n  end_ms: 271290\n- text: Nah, fuck\n  start_ms: 271290\n  end_ms: 286770\n- text: Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  start_ms: 286770\n  end_ms: 288610\n- text: The person you're trying to reach\n  start_ms: 288610\n  end_ms: 289900\n- text: Fuck\n  start_ms: 289900\n  end_ms: 290340\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 290340\nplain: |\n  So close\n  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  The temperaturе's low\n  But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  You wanna—\n\n  Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n  Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n  In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  Punk bitch (Real)\n  Punk bitch, huh\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n  Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  Hey, what's up?\n  Yo, what's good?\n  Hey\n  Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  Nah, fuck\n  Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  The person you're trying to reach\n  Fuck\n"},{"id":28428481,"name":"Poor Thang","trackName":"Poor Thang","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"Unknown","duration":291.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"So close\nBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nPicture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\nWhere niggas die over pride and live for the dough\nIf I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\nHopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\nAnd I'm conflicted with no digits to show\nBut fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\nThe temperaturе's low\nBut you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\nVicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\nPiss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\nFace, tits, for rent, owing\nFist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\nLives expire when niggas pride gets higher\nThan the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\nMy road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\nAnd tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\nI know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\nPost-traumatic stress on an immature brain\nLeaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\nNow he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nYou wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\nYou want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\nWe'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\nWe'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\nYou wanna—\n\nHere go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\nThis nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\nYou get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\nYou make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\nHe talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\nMan, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\nI know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\nWhen egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\nIt's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\nIt's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, live to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\nPlenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\nRent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\nWeren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\nAll of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\nGo 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\nI knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\nStarted rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\nYou more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\nYou can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\nAnd that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\nAnd you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\nSo how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\nYou a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\nYou ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\nMan, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\nMoved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\nIn the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\nThat's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\nWay before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\nHeard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\nWell, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\nGonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\nAnd don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nNah, don't cheat, punk bitch\nTryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\nPunk bitch (Real)\nPunk bitch, huh\n\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\nPoor thing, young pup's playin' war games\nHe wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\nDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\nCome get your issue, no one gets sprayed\nWin or you lose, get to fight another day\nAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\nHey, what's up? Hey what's up\nHey, what's up?\nYo, what's good?\nHey\nHey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\nNah, fuck\nYour call has been forwarded to voicemail\nThe person you're trying to reach\nFuck\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.03] So close\n[00:03.30] Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n[00:10.68] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:13.24] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[00:15.00] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[00:18.51] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[00:21.16] Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n[00:23.80] Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n[00:26.36] If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n[00:28.00] Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n[00:31.68] And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n[00:33.79] But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n[00:36.36] The temperaturе's low\n[00:37.40] But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n[00:42.08] Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n[00:45.63] Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n[00:48.19] Face, tits, for rent, owing\n[00:49.79] Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n[00:52.47] Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n[00:54.88] Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n[00:57.80] My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n[01:00.52] And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n[01:02.87] I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n[01:05.47] Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n[01:08.19] Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n[01:10.75] Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n[01:13.35] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:15.87] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[01:18.55] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[01:21.07] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[01:23.71] You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n[01:25.67] You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n[01:28.02] We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n[01:30.55] We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n[01:33.19] You wanna—\n\n[01:33.90] Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n[01:36.50] This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n[01:39.13] You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n[01:41.61] You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n[01:44.49] He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n[01:47.18] Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n[01:49.45] I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n[01:52.17] When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n[01:55.39] It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n[01:58.68] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n[02:01.60] It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n[02:04.15] It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n[02:04.94] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[02:07.98] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[02:10.45] Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n[02:13.10] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n[02:15.81] Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n[02:18.21] Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n[02:20.89] Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n[02:23.37] All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n[02:26.01] Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n[02:28.66] I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n[02:31.21] Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n[02:33.89] You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n[02:36.41] You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n[02:38.78] And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n[02:41.69] And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n[02:44.29] So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n[02:47.05] You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n[02:49.44] You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n[02:51.85] Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n[02:54.53] Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n[02:57.29] 'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n[02:59.64] In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n[03:02.60] That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n[03:05.21] Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n[03:07.76] Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n[03:10.36] Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n[03:12.93] Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n[03:15.56] And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:18.21] Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n[03:20.85] Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n[03:25.12] Punk bitch (Real)\n[03:27.97] Punk bitch, huh\n\n[03:28.73] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:31.67] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n[03:34.19] Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n[03:36.75] He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n[03:39.47] Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n[03:42.07] Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n[03:44.59] Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n[03:47.19] And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n[03:53.32] 'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n[04:17.20] Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n[04:21.29] Hey, what's up?\n[04:23.78] Yo, what's good?\n[04:26.65] Hey\n[04:28.01] Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n[04:31.29] Nah, fuck\n[04:46.77] Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n[04:48.61] The person you're trying to reach\n[04:49.90] Fuck\n[04:50.34] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Poor Thang\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: Unknown\n  duration_ms: 291000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: So close\n  start_ms: 2030\n  end_ms: 3300\n- text: Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n  start_ms: 3300\n  end_ms: 10680\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 10680\n  end_ms: 13240\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 13240\n  end_ms: 15000\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 15000\n  end_ms: 18510\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 18510\n  end_ms: 21160\n- text: Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  start_ms: 21160\n  end_ms: 23800\n- text: Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  start_ms: 23800\n  end_ms: 26360\n- text: If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  start_ms: 26360\n  end_ms: 28000\n- text: Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  start_ms: 28000\n  end_ms: 31680\n- text: And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  start_ms: 31680\n  end_ms: 33790\n- text: But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  start_ms: 33790\n  end_ms: 36360\n- text: The temperaturе's low\n  start_ms: 36360\n  end_ms: 37400\n- text: But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  start_ms: 37400\n  end_ms: 42080\n- text: Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  start_ms: 42080\n  end_ms: 45630\n- text: Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  start_ms: 45630\n  end_ms: 48190\n- text: Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  start_ms: 48190\n  end_ms: 49790\n- text: Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  start_ms: 49790\n  end_ms: 52470\n- text: Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  start_ms: 52470\n  end_ms: 54880\n- text: Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  start_ms: 54880\n  end_ms: 57800\n- text: My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  start_ms: 57800\n  end_ms: 60520\n- text: And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  start_ms: 60520\n  end_ms: 62870\n- text: I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  start_ms: 62870\n  end_ms: 65470\n- text: Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  start_ms: 65470\n  end_ms: 68190\n- text: Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  start_ms: 68190\n  end_ms: 70750\n- text: Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n  start_ms: 70750\n  end_ms: 73350\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 73350\n  end_ms: 75870\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 75870\n  end_ms: 78550\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 78550\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 83710\n- text: You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  start_ms: 83710\n  end_ms: 85670\n- text: You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  start_ms: 85670\n  end_ms: 88020\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  start_ms: 88020\n  end_ms: 90550\n- text: We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  start_ms: 90550\n  end_ms: 93190\n- text: You wanna—\n  start_ms: 93190\n  end_ms: 93900\n- text: Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  start_ms: 93900\n  end_ms: 96500\n- text: This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  start_ms: 96500\n  end_ms: 99130\n- text: You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  start_ms: 99130\n  end_ms: 101610\n- text: You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  start_ms: 101610\n  end_ms: 104490\n- text: He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  start_ms: 104490\n  end_ms: 107180\n- text: Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  start_ms: 107180\n  end_ms: 109450\n- text: I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  start_ms: 109450\n  end_ms: 112170\n- text: When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  start_ms: 112170\n  end_ms: 115390\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  start_ms: 115390\n  end_ms: 118680\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  start_ms: 118680\n  end_ms: 121600\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  start_ms: 121600\n  end_ms: 124150\n- text: It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n  start_ms: 124150\n  end_ms: 124940\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 124940\n  end_ms: 127980\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 127980\n  end_ms: 130450\n- text: Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  start_ms: 130450\n  end_ms: 133100\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 133100\n  end_ms: 135810\n- text: Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 135810\n  end_ms: 138210\n- text: Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 138210\n  end_ms: 140890\n- text: Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 140890\n  end_ms: 143370\n- text: All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 143370\n  end_ms: 146010\n- text: Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 146010\n  end_ms: 148660\n- text: I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 148660\n  end_ms: 151210\n- text: Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 151210\n  end_ms: 153890\n- text: You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 153890\n  end_ms: 156410\n- text: You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 156410\n  end_ms: 158780\n- text: And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 158780\n  end_ms: 161690\n- text: And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 161690\n  end_ms: 164290\n- text: So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  start_ms: 164290\n  end_ms: 167050\n- text: You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 167050\n  end_ms: 169440\n- text: You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  start_ms: 169440\n  end_ms: 171850\n- text: Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  start_ms: 171850\n  end_ms: 174530\n- text: Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  start_ms: 174530\n  end_ms: 177290\n- text: '''Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched'\n  start_ms: 177290\n  end_ms: 179640\n- text: In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  start_ms: 179640\n  end_ms: 182600\n- text: That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 182600\n  end_ms: 185210\n- text: Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  start_ms: 185210\n  end_ms: 187760\n- text: Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  start_ms: 187760\n  end_ms: 190360\n- text: Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 190360\n  end_ms: 192930\n- text: Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 192930\n  end_ms: 195560\n- text: And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 195560\n  end_ms: 198210\n- text: Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  start_ms: 198210\n  end_ms: 200850\n- text: Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  start_ms: 200850\n  end_ms: 205120\n- text: Punk bitch (Real)\n  start_ms: 205120\n  end_ms: 207970\n- text: Punk bitch, huh\n  start_ms: 207970\n  end_ms: 208730\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 208730\n  end_ms: 211670\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 211670\n  end_ms: 214190\n- text: Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  start_ms: 214190\n  end_ms: 216750\n- text: He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  start_ms: 216750\n  end_ms: 219470\n- text: Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  start_ms: 219470\n  end_ms: 222070\n- text: Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  start_ms: 222070\n  end_ms: 224590\n- text: Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  start_ms: 224590\n  end_ms: 227190\n- text: And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  start_ms: 227190\n  end_ms: 233320\n- text: '''Cause I''ve been through lots of things'\n  start_ms: 233320\n  end_ms: 257200\n- text: Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  start_ms: 257200\n  end_ms: 261290\n- text: Hey, what's up?\n  start_ms: 261290\n  end_ms: 263780\n- text: Yo, what's good?\n  start_ms: 263780\n  end_ms: 266650\n- text: Hey\n  start_ms: 266650\n  end_ms: 268010\n- text: Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  start_ms: 268010\n  end_ms: 271290\n- text: Nah, fuck\n  start_ms: 271290\n  end_ms: 286770\n- text: Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  start_ms: 286770\n  end_ms: 288610\n- text: The person you're trying to reach\n  start_ms: 288610\n  end_ms: 289900\n- text: Fuck\n  start_ms: 289900\n  end_ms: 290340\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 290340\nplain: |\n  So close\n  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Picture my soul climbin' out of infinite holes\n  Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough\n  If I survive, then I strive to hit with the flow\n  Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow\n  And I'm conflicted with no digits to show\n  But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole\n  The temperaturе's low\n  But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin', like the tires on thе whip in the snow\n  Vicious for sure, I'm tip-toein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'\n  Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'\n  Face, tits, for rent, owing\n  Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'\n  Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher\n  Than the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uh\n  My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes\n  And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain\n  I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain\n  Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain\n  Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games\n  Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', \"Poor thing\"\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  You wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?\n  You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?\n  We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off\n  We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)\n  You wanna—\n\n  Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum\n  This nigga back home been talkin' slick, and I done heard him\n  You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on\n  You make you some calls, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em\n  He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school\n  Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him\n  I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden\n  When egos is flarin', beware that's when they close the curtain (Put your hands up)\n  It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You pullin' out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)\n  It's when they close the curtain (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, live to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n\n  Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch\n  Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch\n  Weren't no Western Unions, so you were not needed, punk bitch\n  All of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch\n  Go 'en and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch\n  I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch\n  Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch\n  You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch\n  You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch\n  And that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?\n  And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch\n  So how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?\n  You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch\n  You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit\n  Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch\n  Moved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit\n  'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched\n  In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch\n  That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitch\n  Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitch\n  Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?\n  Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch\n  Gonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch\n  And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch\n  Tryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up ('Cause I've been through lots of things)\n  Punk bitch (Real)\n  Punk bitch, huh\n\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n  Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games\n  He wanted love, but he only made more pain\n\n  Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade\n  Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed\n  Win or you lose, get to fight another day\n  And if I take an L, I won't feel no way\n  'Cause I've been through lots of things\n\n  Hey, what's up? Hey what's up\n  Hey, what's up?\n  Yo, what's good?\n  Hey\n  Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?\n  Nah, fuck\n  Your call has been forwarded to voicemail\n  The person you're trying to reach\n  Fuck\n"}]