Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Ex Nihilo, artist - Andy Mineo. Album song Heroes for Sale, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 15.04.2013
Record label: Reach
Song language: English
Ex Nihilo |
Yea, who woulda thought I’d step inside this train station, |
then get hit with some inspiration? |
It’s amazin. |
the most beautiful pieces of art come from the ugliest situations, |
So I praise Him, rejoicin in my sufferin cause I know |
He’s got a masterpiece in the makin, |
and I ain’t scared of death nor Satan, |
cause I know who’s hand that my name is engraved in, |
this right here is a proper statement, |
I am not the artist, I’m the canvas that He’s paintin, |
like I remember last year bein homeless, |
sleepin on the air mattress, but on the phone with, |
three record labels, who to go with? |
I notice, |
you like to fix things with them tools that are broken, |
so when them dark nights hit his soul, |
I know enough to know to trust you with what I don’t, |
Bad days, I suppose, too much for me to remember, |
let me back up, I’m too close, now I can see the whole picture, |
you make somethin out of nothin, nothin |
you make somethin out of nothin, nothin |
Sittin back meditatin on creation, |
thinkin how you made everything out of nathan, |
what a statement, you sustain it, |
let there be, and there is, my brain can’t contain this, |
that’s why the fame and the claim is so dangerous, |
it’ll make a heart sing that my name is the greatest, |
so, Josh, Rich, Ray, Alex, De, |
call me to repentance if I ever go astray, |
if that money ever get in the way, then I’ll burn it, |
the price for my soul is something I couldn’t pay, |
sometimes I read them articles believin what they say, |
sweatin my own press, God is so unimpressed, |
nah, I’m a mess, made out of dust, |
to return to it upon death, my soul rests, and yet, |
they makin heroes out of the ones who been rescued, |
who cares if they remember my name if I forget you? |
Bad days, I suppose, too much for me to remember, |
let me back up, I’m too close, now I can see the whole picture, |
you make somethin out of nothin, nothin |
you make somethin out of nothin, nothin |
Your egos nothin, |
I’m nothin much, but He knows somethin, Exnihilo, |
He’s next to zero, |
He leans on nothin and nothin I want more than hear those trumpets, |
no nothin I want more than to hear those trumpets, |
my earlobes jumpin I feel so love sick, |
lot of us got ideas but still no substance, |
and a lot of times I can see it but the mirror don’t love Chris, |
Bad days, I suppose, too much for me to remember, |
let me back up, I’m too close, now I can see the whole picture, |
you make somethin out of nothin, nothin |
you make somethin out of nothin, nothin |