| And they say, «Don't forget where you come from
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| Don’t die holding on to your words
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| Cause you know you got a whole world to change
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| But understand who you got to change first»
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| And I was like «Fuck that», humility bust back
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| I remember the days with nothing but a bus pass
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| I was just a little shorty just hoping that I could find a bum to buy a 40 for
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| me
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| And have enough for a bud sack
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| Yeah, and I dance on that instrumental
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| Unorthodox like Basquiat with the pencil
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| Gimme a microphone and a beat box I could vent to
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| Music the only medium that I could find myself through
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| Recluse, sipping on some lean I would let loose
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| Looking in the mirror, watching myself lose
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| Cleaned up in '08, got a job making barely minimum wage
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| To get into that page
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| Hit the road with RL, performing in front of 8 people
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| And that shit will check your ego
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| About around that time I’m watching that EP go
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| From nothing to getting us booked around the country
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| I know no limits, life can change in an instant
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| 8 People turn into sold out shows in a minute
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| And I’m watching my pops in the back row grinning
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| With his glass up to my mom, toasting his Guinness
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| And we on (we on)
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| Good music, get lost in the ambiance
|
| When day we’ll leave here
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| But these words live on
|
| Till then, we keep on making the songs
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| So put 'em up, up up, up up (so high)
|
| So put 'em up, up up, up up (so high)
|
| So put 'em up, up up, up up (so high)
|
| Put 'em up, up up, up up (so high)
|
| So put 'em up, up up, up up (so high)
|
| So put 'em up, up up, up up (so high)
|
| I remember that Freshman edition
|
| Last year thinking to myself like
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| Yah, nah, I won’t win it yet
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| I probably won’t get it, but I’m gonna give it everything
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| Play my position
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| The next 11 months I gave it all everything I had in me
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| Left blood, sweat, tears in every God damn city
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| No label, no deal, no publicist, indie
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| Just music that connected and fans that rode with me
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| Throw me a gold mine, and a co-sign
|
| While you’re riding a couple dope rides
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| 2 women, both dimes
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| Not gonna lie, that shit sounds so nice
|
| But I got creative control and my souls mine
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| I wouldn’t trade it, maybe I’m crazy
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| I put on for my city
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| Seattle that raised me
|
| Rule 4080, it’s really not changing
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| Now a days make good music, the people are your label
|
| So put 'em up, up up, up up (so high)
|
| So put 'em up, up up, up up (so high)
|
| So put 'em up, up up, up up (so high)
|
| Put 'em up, up up, up up (so high)
|
| So put 'em up, up up, up up (so high)
|
| So put 'em up, up up, up up (so high)
|
| Oh my God, feels like a victory lap
|
| Can I have that moment
|
| Can I talk my shit
|
| And they say, «Don't forget where you come from
|
| Don’t die holding on to your words
|
| Cause you know you got a whole world to change
|
| But understand who you got to change first»
|
| Put 'em up, up up, up up
|
| Up, up up, up up
|
| Up, up up, up up
|
| Macklemore, Ryan Lewis, Seattle
|
| Put 'em up, up up, up up
|
| Up, up up, up up (so high) |