| I see these pictures on the wall
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| And the people look upset
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| And they all look full of regret
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| Because they can’t escape the frame
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| Well I’m no lame, I’ll break it into pieces
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| Show me a system you know I’ll beat it
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| Life is like legos, gotta keep building
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| Smash that building, THEN REBUILD IT
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| Once the peacoat come off, the pomade come out;
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| The drums get rung out; |
| the words get sung out
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| I’m cold. |
| Rockin' a Snuggie. |
| I’m so bold
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| With a fist in the air, I promise I won’t fold
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| I won’t' stop either. |
| Trippin' off ether
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| Musta been that boom-bap that knocked him on his keister
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| Or that Bruce Springsteen
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| Reaganomics baby bubba, so you know I’m a fiend
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| I was dreaming bout songs that they didn’t even make yet
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| Rip the mic' on my Fisher Price tape deck
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| Check out my melody. |
| I wanna go ape-shit
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| Clappin' to Tracy Chapman in the basement
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| No genres; |
| just a lot of new soul
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| That rhythm nation gave that little dude hope
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| Can’t cope. |
| No dope — no ill shit
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| Feelings coming back cause you know we gon' rebuild it
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| We breathe life, dodge pain, and sing loud
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| Egalitarian constructs we kings now
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| We’re not pions. |
| The type of shit we on —
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| — is cold shoulder bold. |
| No mold.
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| We stay freon
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| So we’re liquid, but still viscous
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| When shit breaks we ain’t looking for a quick fix
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| This ain’t 8th grade science class, dip-shit
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| Chemistry’s organic; |
| can it with the Bisquick
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| We stay hungry; |
| pancakes for handshakes
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| No hang overs. |
| The buzz becomes mandate
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| Rebuild bridges. |
| Send out the pigeons
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| Carry the words. |
| We purge what’s divisive
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| And reunite when the lightning strikes
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| No Ben Franks
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| , but that’s how you know the price is right
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| We tie keys to kites, and let 'em spark up
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| Dreams become real; |
| congeal like Don Darko
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| They throwing stones like they’re running out of ammo
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| We going hard like motherfucking Rambo
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| But no first blood, and no virgins
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| They put the fine print in motherfucking cursive
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| They’re tryna trick us, but we’re in Comic Sans
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| Lower cased — we don’t overstate the common man
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| It’s no big deal; |
| it’s just music right?
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| Maybe yes, maybe no, maybe use it right?
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| I know I’m trying to. |
| I know you’re trying too
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| Find peace, find love, find Bonaroo
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| But it’s a contradiction when the hate is felt
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| You should prolly talk shit, and try and take the belt
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| But the belt means shit when you zoom out
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| That top spot might as well be a tomb now
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| You find weakness, turn it into strength
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| Build a foundation to bury all the hate- till we’re home
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| And the lights get cut on, we all in as they play the fight song
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| We toast drinks while we right where we wronged
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| In with the good air, bad air be gone
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| But unfiltered we are not stilted
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| Double entendres will be not jilted
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| Cuz' we love the love that we live for
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| Concrete set but yet we still build more |