| «Got to change my way of living
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| Got to change my style»
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| He remembers a little bit of his childhood
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| Sometimes bad, sometimes good
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| But he never was one to blame today’s grey sky on last week’s rain
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| So he see’s everything face value
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| Looks grim, it tastes bad too
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| There’s nothing to do except dupe, push down the wall and get through it I swear to god it’s too stretched
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| Too easy to slip or lose steps
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| And the taller you are, the harder you fall
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| That’s why a lot of us crawl
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| Mumma, please don’t look now
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| I’ve gotta walk over people I’ve took down
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| It ain’t as pretty as you probably think
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| It’s gonna take more than soap and a sink
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| Tomorrow he’ll drink to the guilt of every cheap wooden bridge that he’s built
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| Bury those skeletons in his head
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| Til you pick him up and carry him to bed
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| Swimming through alcohol and woman
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| Gets some gold spray paint for that lemon
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| Everything he’s got is not a given
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| Rock bottom on the flipside of top billin
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| Not a victim, fuck the sympathy
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| Figure it out, and kill the bitch in me Poor a little liquor out and call it a victory
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| They said the sky was limit free
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| No, don’t trust none of these people
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| Won’t give him enough to love me for me so even when they welcome me into their kingdom
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| Can’t bring self to believe them
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| It goes, folk hard tryna act like no flaw
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| Turn it up til it burns that stove top
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| Mr know it all, bad boy showoffs
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| Red lights, no stops
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| Mumma, this can’t be the boy you raised me to be
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| The drama, depression
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| Afraid that it must be the daily in me that’s crazy
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| Carry me home — take care of your baby
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| Don’t wanna live like that, no Don’t wanna live like that, no |