Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song That Power, artist - Childish Gambino. Album song Camp, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 14.11.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Glassnote Entertainment Group, mcDJ
Song language: English
That Power |
All these haters, see you later |
All that I could do, but you don’t even feel me though |
I know you know I know you got that power |
That power |
Oh, oh oh |
So CG, but a nigga stay real though |
I’m fly, I’m ill, I’m runnin' shit |
3-points, field goal |
Rappers used to laugh like I tripped and fell |
Cause I don’t stunt a gold cross like I Christian, bail |
Yeah, they starin' at me jealous 'cause I do shows bigger |
But your looks don’t help like an old gold digger |
Uncool, but lyrically I’m a stone cold killer |
So it’s 400 blows to these Truffaut niggas |
Yeah, now that’s the line of the century |
Niggas missed it, too busy, they lyin' 'bout penitentiary |
Man, you ain’t been there, nigga you been scared |
And I’m still livin' single like Synclaire |
Lovin' white dudes who call me white and then try to hate |
When I wasn’t white enough to use your pool when I was eight |
Stone Mountain, you raised me well |
I’m stared at by Confederates, but hard as hell |
Tight jeans, penny loafers, but I still drink a fo' dime |
Staying on my me shit, but hated on by both sides |
I’m just a kid who blowin' up with my father’s name |
And every black «You're not black enough» |
Is a white «you're all the same» |
Mm Food like Rapp Snitch Knishes |
'Cause it’s Oreos, Twinkies, coconuts, delicious |
How many gold plaques you want inside your dining room? |
I said, «I want a full house» |
They said, «You got it, dude» |
All these haters, see you later |
All that I could do, but you don’t even feel me though (Brra) |
I know you know I know you got that power |
That power |
Oh, oh oh |
Holla, holla, holla, holla at your boy |
Like your dad when he’s pissed off |
Got flow, I could make a cripple crip walk |
Niggas' breath stank, all they do is shit talk |
People want a real man, I made 'em wait this long |
Maybe if he bombs, he’ll quit and keep actin' |
And save paper like your aunt does with McDonald napkins |
How’d it happen? |
Honesty did it |
See all of my competition at the bodies exhibit |
Yeah, I bodied the limits and I deaded them fakers |
Motherfuck if you hate it, cremated them haters |
So, my studio be a funeral |
Yeah, this is our year, oh you didn’t know? |
Uh, yeah I’m killin' you, step inside the lion’s den |
Man I’m hov if the 'O' was an 'I' instead |
On stage wit' my family in front of me |
I am what I am: everything I wanna be |
All these haters, see you later |
All that I could do, but you don’t even feel me though |
I know you know I know you got that power |
That power |
Oh, oh oh |
This is on a bus back from camp |
I’m thirteen and so are you |
Before I left for camp I imagined it would be me and three or four other dudes |
I hadn’t met yet, running around all summer, getting into trouble |
It turned out it would be me and just one girl. |
That’s you |
And we’re still at camp as long as we’re on the bus |
And not at the pickup point where our parents would be waiting for us |
We’re still wearing our orange camp t-shirts. |
We still smell like pineneedles |
I like you and you like me and I more-than-like you |
But I don’t know if you do or don’t more-than-like me |
You’ve never said, so I haven’t been saying anything all summer |
Content to enjoy the small miracle of a girl choosing to talk to me |
And choosing to do so again the next day and so on |
A girl who’s smart and funny and who, if I say something dumb for a laugh |
Is willing to say something two or three times as dumb to make me laugh |
But who also gets weird and wise sometimes in a way I could never be |
A girl who reads books that no one’s assigned to her |
Whose curly brown hair has a line running through it |
From where she put a tie to hold it up while it was still wet |
Back in the real world we don’t go to the same school |
And unless one of our families moves to a dramatically different neighborhood |
We won’t go to the same high school |
So, this is kind of it for us. |
Unless I say something |
And it might especially be it for us if I actually do say something |
The sun’s gone down and the bus is quiet. |
A lot of kids are asleep |
We’re talking in whispers about a tree we saw at a rest stop |
That looks like a kid we know |
And then I’m like, «Can I tell you something?» |
And all of a sudden I’m telling you |
And I keep telling you and it all comes out of me and it keeps coming |
And your face is there and gone and there and gone |
As we pass underneath the orange lamps that line the sides of the highway |
And there’s no expression on it |
And I think just after a point I’m just talking to lengthen the time |
Where we live in a world where you haven’t said «yes» or «no» yet |
And regrettably I end up using the word «destiny» |
I don’t remember in what context. |
Doesn’t really matter |
Before long I’m out of stuff to say and you smile and say, «okay» |
I don’t know exactly what you mean by it, but it seems vaguely positive |
And I would leave in order not to spoil the moment |
But there’s nowhere to go because we’re on a bus |
So I pretend like I’m asleep and before long, I really am |
I wake up, the bus isn’t moving anymore |
The domed lights that line the center aisle are all on |
I turn and you’re not there |
Then again a lot of kids aren’t in their seats anymore |
We’re parked at the pick-up point, which is in the parking lot of a Methodist |
church |
The bus is half empty. |
You might be in your dad’s car by now |
Your bags and things piled high in the trunk |
The girls in the back of the bus are shrieking and laughing and taking their |
sweet time |
Disembarking as I swing my legs out into the aisle to get up off the bus |
Just as one of them reaches my row |
It used to be our row, on our way off |
It’s Michelle, a girl who got suspended from third grade for a week |
After throwing rocks at my head |
Adolescence is doing her a ton of favors body-wise |
She stops and looks down at me |
And her head is blasted from behind by the dome light, so I can’t really see |
her face |
But I can see her smile. |
And she says one word: «destiny» |
Then her and the girls clogging the aisles behind her all laugh |
And then she turns and leads them off the bus |
I didn’t know you were friends with them |
I find my dad in the parking lot. |
He drives me back to our house and camp is |
over |
So is summer, even though there’s two weeks until school starts |
This isn’t a story about how girls are evil or how love is bad |
This is a story about how I learned something and I’m not saying this thing is |
true or not |
I’m just saying it’s what I learned |
I told you something. |
It was just for you and you told everybody |
So I learned cut out the middle man, make it all for everybody, always |
Everybody can’t turn around and tell everybody, everybody already knows, |
I told them |
But this means there isn’t a place in my life for you or someone like you |
Is it sad? |
Sure. |
But it’s a sadness I chose |
I wish I could say this was a story about how I got on the bus a boy |
And got off a man more cynical, hardened, and mature and shit |
But that’s not true. |
The truth is I got on the bus a boy. |
And I never got off |
the bus |
I still haven’t |