| It builds me up
|
| It breaks me down
|
| I still get up
|
| And move around
|
| Every day is your first day
|
| Let’s paint the town
|
| 'Cause when I get up
|
| Can’t feel the ground
|
| Inner peace type visions
|
| Prisons have walls
|
| The white walls on my Lincoln got miles
|
| Envisioning night falls
|
| The day has gone wild
|
| The sky it falls down
|
| Like the eyes of a tired child ---
|
| So where so do we go then?
|
| And what are we supposed to do?
|
| You cling to your home, kin
|
| Those that’ll hold you
|
| In the old days the things that would fold you
|
| Would be attacked
|
| You’d be avenged like some old fool ---
|
| You see we was born free of a burden
|
| Soar the more we learning
|
| Molded by the whole wide world
|
| The cold turning
|
| And we die with broken shoulders
|
| Weight of a life of lived
|
| Some live longer
|
| Because some of us stay kids ---
|
| We all have our own religion
|
| Don’t all keep the faith
|
| That’s why I have these visions
|
| I need to meditate
|
| De La Soul said we have the highest of stakes
|
| Sometimes coming in is the greatest escape
|
| It builds me up
|
| It breaks me down
|
| I still get up
|
| And move around
|
| Every day is your first day
|
| Let’s paint the town
|
| 'Cause when I get up
|
| Can’t feel the ground
|
| We all wish for small bits of solace
|
| To flitter and fall
|
| Swish
|
| Whisk away all this
|
| So when venomous thoughts slither 'cross your conscience
|
| Just drop the blades and straight shave the nonsense
|
| I’ve been trained on conquests that’ll tame confidence
|
| In my lane, no contest
|
| An insane optimist
|
| In a populace of popular kids with the props and positive gifts
|
| I’m about as odd as it gets
|
| Honest
|
| I’m on this
|
| Neurotic sonic accomplice
|
| Counterculture responsive
|
| Contemplating the ominous
|
| With a prominence that astonishes ponderous honor-less hominids Out for dollars
|
| and dominance I’ma spit
|
| But is that as hot as it gets?
|
| On some ecologist shit
|
| It ain’t quite a sauna but this climate gotcha bothered a bit
|
| Like breathing with a wet towel over your mouth
|
| Arctic jungle
|
| Savage land
|
| Planet disavowed
|
| Out
|
| The rules they don’t apply the same to all of us
|
| The blues we sing cause we’re supposed to shake it off
|
| The news don’t always sound the same to all of us
|
| These tools won’t always work, I’m going to break it off
|
| We on the same ship got the same sails
|
| Praying that we don’t tip, clinging to the rails
|
| Dealing with the same shit, same junk mail
|
| Sometimes you think you’re running but you’re an old snail ---
|
| But that’s just relativity, fast with negativity
|
| Blasted for discretions, all connectivity
|
| Last one to the table don’t eat? |
| How we living see
|
| First one up the ladder pulls it up. |
| Now you’re killing me ---
|
| Damn! |
| 'Cause I’m a positive dude
|
| 99% of the time, I’m in a positive mood
|
| Tell me that I have to walk a mile — the most colossal of shoes
|
| I may be a fool, but I’m on the move ---
|
| It’s true what they say about aiming for the moon
|
| Stop following these stars we got work to do
|
| We learn as we go, and just trying to follow rules
|
| But sometimes these rules prevent you from being you
|
| It builds me up
|
| It breaks me down
|
| I still get up
|
| And move around
|
| Every day is your first day
|
| Let’s paint the town
|
| 'Cause when I get up
|
| Can’t feel the ground
|
| The rules they don’t apply the same to all of us
|
| The blues we sing cause we’re supposed to shake it off
|
| The news don’t always sound the same to all of us
|
| These tools won’t always work, I’m going to break it off |