| Open my eyes, what the fuck do I see?
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| I see the world lacks time, and I don’t need no clock for this
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| Wait, that’s the wrong song, shit
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| The world got confusing for a bit, and still I don’t get it
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| Everybody want some shit a whole lot of are at this party
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| Listen to me spit like I’m a rapper
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| Like I got bars for days and gold chains
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| Like I live up in a mansion, no apartment, out in
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| Still I pay my rent, momma still be callin
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| I got all I want, it ain’t impress
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| Bethany just blocked me, I ain’t even read her tweets
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| My dad ain’t pay his phone so I ain’t heard from him in weeks
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| Got used to niggas lookin at my shit like, «boy, you weak!»
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| Cuz I’m still Michael Lindsay still come from Warren Street
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| Momma said don’t go to Copeland they got niggas in the street
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| They don’t care if you eleven they’ll leaven twelve up in your cheek
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| At thirteen I was writing whole tracks with no beats
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| At fourteen I was writing on them Blackberry keys
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| At fifteen I was doing open mics, all free
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| At sixteen I recorded in the basement up at Keiths
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| At seventeen I was rocking with Monroe, tryna eat
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| At eighteen I met Goodwin, Tim, all through OG
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| At nineteen dropped Is This Art? |
| and now shit different
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| At twenty years old I division that’s gon stop the bitchin'
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| Got a lot of love, don’t got a lot of wishes
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| All I want is glory in the crib for my lil ma to live in
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| If you got a story then you tell it then they gotta listen
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| Where you been? |
| (Where you been?)
|
| Where you goin'? |
| (Where you goin'?)
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| Don’t be so emotional
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| Just staring at this open road
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| Two seconds I turn off my phone
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| Just ride for a minute, let all the bullshit slide for a minute
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| They told me that the sky is the limit
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| They told me that the sky is the limit
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| The sky is the limit
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| They told me that the sky is the limit
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| They told me that the sky is the limit
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| Elevated my vision and threw out my indecision
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| I’m bustin' like jizzin', this mental prism is prison
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| I’ve risen out of this shit, made a million out of spit
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| If you feelin' inadequate and mad a bit like when Anakin had a fit
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| Then keep it going, knowing it could be nothing
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| While society bluffin', lying and huffing, we keep it movin'
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| Over and over, we provin' the realest, illest, and chillest
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| Rockin' chinchillas, like what the fuck? |
| It’s mathematical
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| Never had a crew, what would you rather do?
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| Serving customers with attitudes or flying private
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| While the pilot only focused on latitude
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| Just cause he got it that don’t mean you should be madder, dude
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| Do what you want in this life, do what you rather do
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| Never get caught in the middle, belittled, and feelin' little, fool
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| Just do you
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| Where you been? |
| (Where you been?)
|
| Where you goin'? |
| (Where you goin'?)
|
| Don’t be so emotional
|
| Just staring at this open road
|
| Two seconds I turn off my phone
|
| Just ride for a minute, let all the bullshit slide for a minute
|
| They told me that the sky is the limit
|
| They told me that the sky is the limit
|
| The sky is the limit
|
| They told me that the sky is the limit
|
| They told me that the sky is the limit |