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My pop never wanted it for me.
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He said there were times with the worry
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that he wished he could have stayed in the shop,
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just cut hair.
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To be honest, I'd rather he fucking shot me than cut my hair.
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There's somebody I've been bringing along to insulate myself
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from the stuff that could bring down a boss,
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and take care of Carmela too, in case...
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God forbid.
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Now, maybe
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between me and this person
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there's diverging agendas.