| I hope that God decides to talk through him
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| That the people decide to walk with him
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| Regardless of pitchfork cosigns I’ve jumped
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| Make sure the soundman doesn’t cockblock the drums
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| Let the snare knock the air right out of your lungs
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| And those words be the oxygen
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| Just breathe
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| Amen, regardless I’mma say it
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| Felt like I got signed the day that I got an agent
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| Got an iTunes check, shit man I’m paying rent
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| About damn time that I got out of my basement
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| About damn time I got around the country and I hit these stages
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| I was made to slay them
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| Ten thousand hours I’m so damn close I can taste it
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| On some Malcolm Gladwell, David-Bowie-meets-Kanye shit
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| This is dedication
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| A life lived for art is never a life wasted
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| Ten thousand
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| Ten thousand hours felt like ten thousand hands
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| Ten thousand hands, they carry me
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| Ten thousand hours felt like ten thousand hands
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| Ten thousand hands, they carry me
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| Now, now, now
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| This is my world, this is my arena
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| The TV told me something different I didn’t believe it
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| I stand here in front of you today all because of an idea
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| I could be who I wanted if I could see my potential
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| And I know that one day I’mma be him
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| Put the gloves on, sparring with my ego
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| Everyone’s greatest obstacle, I beat 'em
|
| Celebrate that achievement
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| Got some attachments, some baggage I’m actually working on leaving
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| See, I observed Escher
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| I love Basquiat
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| I watched Keith Haring
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| You see I study art
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| The greats weren’t great because at birth they could paint
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| The greats were great because they paint a lot
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| I will not be a statistic
|
| Just let me be
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| No child left behind, that’s the American scheme
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| I make my living off of words
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| And do what I love for work
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| And got around 980 on my SATs
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| Take that system, what did you expect?
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| Generation of kids choosing love over a desk
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| You put those hours in and look at what you get
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| Nothing that you can hold, but everything that it is
|
| Ten thousand
|
| Ten thousand hours felt like ten thousand hands
|
| Ten thousand hands, they carry me
|
| Ten thousand hours felt like ten thousand hands
|
| Ten thousand hands, they carry me
|
| Same shit, different day, same struggle
|
| Slow motion as time slips through my knuckles
|
| Nothing beautiful about it, no light at the tunnel
|
| For the people that put the passion before them being comfortable
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| Raw, unmedicated heart no substitute
|
| Banging on table tops, no subs to toot
|
| I’m feeling better than ever man, what is up with you?
|
| Scraping my knuckles, I’m battling with some drug abuse
|
| I lost another friend, got another call from a sister
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| And I speak for the people that share that struggle too
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| Like they got something bruised
|
| My only rehabilitation was the sweat, tears and blood when up in the booth…
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| It’s the part of the show
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| Where it all fades away
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| When the lights go to black
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| And the band leaves the stage
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| And you wanted an encore
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| But there’s no encore today
|
| 'Cause the moment is now
|
| Can’t get it back from the grave
|
| Part of the show
|
| It all fades away
|
| Lights go to black
|
| Band leaves the stage
|
| You wanted an encore
|
| But there’s no encore today
|
| 'Cause the moment is now
|
| Can’t get it back from the grave
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| Welcome to the heist |