Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Afterglow (Outro), artist - Nitty Scott. Album song The Art of Chill, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 22.05.2014
Record label: Nitty Scott
Song language: English
Afterglow (Outro) |
Pardon my Bohemian ways |
I know I act like I be stuck in a Bohemian daze |
You said you love me, so don’t rush me |
Love is patient and now you gotta trust me |
To take form, like the canvas of the Grand Canyon |
Product of a beautiful storm or an unborn |
Carried just below the heart |
Quietly preparing for his start |
Let me Michelangelo my Sistine Chapel |
You know they say Rome wasn’t built in a day |
And diamonds need a while before they hit the display |
So I guess I see myself in a similar way |
I’m paced, like my momma in the kitchen whipping |
Always mixing up and fixing |
Begged her for a taste and she said it wasn’t ready |
She stir it up slow and she cook it up steady |
This is not a race track, living in the ASAP |
I’m just trying to do it justice when it play back |
Sometimes I gotta stall the BPM |
So I can weave these dreams and polish up these gems |
In the end, I got love for the show biz |
But sometimes you gotta stop and smell the roses |
Keeping up with the Kardashians and Joneses |
Nah, I take my time and compose this |
They say greatness get better with time |
They say concrete roses hard to find |
Sit inside my room, and let these thoughts bloom |
It’s a secret garden in my mind |
Flower child |
Okay, buffering, creativity suffering |
When you bustlin' hustlin' for the numbers and |
You missed the journey if you climbed too fast |
The beauty of the struggle when it comes to pass |
Amateurs swear they need a balancer |
I want that legendary like excalibur |
Chasing calibers liberated as a bachelor |
Traveler, never falling victim to these calendars |
Rough draft after rough draft |
No staff, perfecting on my abstract craft |
And now they calling me celebrity |
Only thing I give a damn about is my integrity |
They play the game like checkers when I’m talking bout chess |
Tryna do more when I’m talking bout less, I stress |
Quantity ain’t always quality |
So let me formulate my prophecy |
When the lights get low and you notice I am the sun |
The winter time was snow but only little you know |
I will still breathe, give me the keys |
I’m resuscitating the game, see me in CPR |
My name is a gun cocked, gun shot |
Dead and I won’t stop |
Gun cocked, gun shot |
Head in a pine box |
With a dozen roses, hold this with a gift card |
Gun cocked, gun shot |
Flowers on your momma’s yard |
They say greatness get better with time |
They say concrete roses hard to find |
Sit inside my room, and let these thoughts bloom |
It’s a secret garden in my mind |
Flower child |
They say greatness gets better with time |
So why expedite my prime? |
See I’m just a lilac tied to the earth |
Exuding the fragrance of light and birth |
So respect my photosynthesis |
My petals, my stems, full of nourishing flow |
You thought this was a love song, but no |
I just need you to let me grow |