| Future Vintage
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| From the Future
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| From the Future
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| From the Future
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| Are you from the Future?
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| From the Future
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| Live from my DeLorean, time to hit the road again
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| Feeling like an unintentional historian
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| Questioning my motives and my family’s own origins
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| About to find another son who’s gravity I’ll orbit in
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| Personnel changes opportunity’s keep pouring in
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| Walking like I’m Carradine, don’t know when the show will end
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| Hundred miles n' running, singing nothing but the chorus’s
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| Fortunate we never lost sites of our coordinates
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| Nobody ever told me there’d be times like these
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| Seen idles turn to punchlines, for comic relief
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| While nothing seems sacred, we still pray on our knees
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| N' throw down with recycling by the time you agree, you see
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| If by chance I get to dance amongst' the greats again
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| I hope to burst an artery before the song ends
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| These paparazzi better have themselves a longer lens
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| My comfort zone is getting smaller need a taller fence
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| Lost in the moment, since before you started scrolling
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| Fighting my own opponents while I’m poisoning the rodents
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| If I point at the stars, then I’m probably tryna' phone in
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| Just tell me what direction that your going in
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| See I’ma leader, in a cage with the slaves
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| Being trained, doing shit I dreamt' about as a kid
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| In a haze, I admit that looking backs getting more pain these days
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| So I keep my eye pointed towards the sky’s grave
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| And I could die today, so I should mention
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| That I’ve been steady repping, with or without a pendant
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| With or without acceptance, good tidings or their blessings
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| That same burn inside the eyes of very question I’ve been guessing
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| Since I was a lil' freshmen, tryin' to skip the lessons
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| Finger fucking flesh, n' learning how to know the yes men
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| I’m sorry ya’ll, but my polite side’s gone hiatus
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| Sippin' Mai Tai’s, with bane in a time that’s beyond heinous, shit
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| You wanna be famous? |
| No you don’t, you wanna free ride!
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| You ain’t got the soul it takes to finally stake a claim in sea side
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| Bleed sweat, we cried, times ain’t, sweet my
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| Life is like a b-line, whole outlook is deep fried
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| This verse is for the hip hop kiddy that I used to be
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| That thought he’d change the world with good intentions, what a fool of me!
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| It’s all the same, but I’m still tryna' act as if its new to me
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| N' keep these people here when they’d prefer to hang their boots and leave
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| Exit strategy’s n' bag battery’s
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| Success is in my future, when it comes just don’t be mad at me
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| I got tomorrow on the brain before today
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| N' when the sun sets is when the futurists come out to play
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| This, is, new lines, time to shine
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| Cosmos quid, at the finish line
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| Got a band to feed, been planting seeds
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| I’ma raise my nine, no killing time
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| Jettison, Jettison
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| These words here be the medicine
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| Jettison, Jettison
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| The future is now please let us in |