| Oh my God, what am I doing to myself?
|
| Bouncing off all the walls like a boomerang
|
| Locked myself in the booth like a runaway
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| Maybe I, guess yeah I, I got shit to say
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| I ain’t the messy type but you ain’t seen my petty side
|
| I tried to redefine the hurt that made me hold my pride
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| Loosing count of all the times that I had to cry
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| And dry my tears, pull up my socks, cos I have to try
|
| No, I don’t need a hand, why you asking?
|
| Let it go, where was you when I was grafting?
|
| Cut the talk, know your type, know your type
|
| On my own, Imma bounce, Imma shine
|
| My mamma told me from me born
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| Ray a star
|
| That’s my calling yeah
|
| I’m even glowing in the dark
|
| It’s from my heart
|
| Not because I’m dark skin
|
| I hear the whispers in the halls, all the same shit
|
| But I won’t echo all your flaws, Imma change it
|
| My mamma told me from me born
|
| It’s from my heart
|
| Not because I’m dark skin
|
| I can see future goals right in front of me
|
| Look at her, from the south, now she on TV
|
| And I won’t, wont be judged by society
|
| Hold it down, goin' hard til the death of me
|
| I ain’t the messy type but you ain’t seen my petty side
|
| I tried to redefine the hurt that made me hold my pride
|
| Loosing count of all the times that I had to cry
|
| And dry my tears, pull up my socks, cos I have to try
|
| No, I don’t need a hand, why you asking?
|
| Let it go, where was you when I was grafting?
|
| Cut the talk, know your type, know your type
|
| On my own, Imma bounce, Imma shine
|
| My mamma told me from me born
|
| Ray a star
|
| That’s my calling yeah
|
| I’m even glowing in the dark
|
| It’s from my heart
|
| Not because I’m dark skin
|
| I hear the whispers in the halls, all the same shit
|
| But I won’t echo all your flaws, Imma change it
|
| My mamma told me from me born
|
| It’s from my heart
|
| Not because I’m dark skin |