| It’s the end of a day
|
| And I made it this far
|
| But what will tomorrow, bring for me-eeeee?
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| Further than they ever thought
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| I made it this far learnin what they never taught
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| Fingers is permanently curved, they forever crossed
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| The cloud said I’m not alone if I ever walk
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| But it’s easy to fall victim, harder to brush it off
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| When any dream you dreamed will probably run along
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| Time flies when you starin at the stars
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| But time dies when you clear away your heart
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| And fuck seein facades, none of that is payin
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| Neither is complainin, just thank God you made it
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| But what if you didn’t make it? |
| What if this whole time
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| Everything that you made, was a product of closed eyes
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| And by the time you wake, the time that you had prayed
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| Will still be on your side, took the time to fly away
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| And before you even get to reflect
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| The minute hands is walkin and you missin your steps
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| Huh, it’s ironic ain’t it? |
| You could try to wait it
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| But there ain’t enough colors for you to try to paint it
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| So tryin to explain it to anyone’ll get 'em lost
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| And points don’t exist if they don’t ever get across
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| Mama said it’s up to me to keep the lights on
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| I said «cool, long as God keep the mics on»
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| I could speak the right song or sing the right poem
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| And I could find a way to light home
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| — 2X — w/ sample playing in background
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| I maintain, I maintain, I maintain
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| I just maintain
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| I maintain, I maintain
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| As long as I could open my eyes, I maintain
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| The sacrificial lamb, the carrier of loads
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| Who showed no pain 'til he was carryin 'em home
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| Who showed no gain but if you added up his growth
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| It would show, that it was off balance from the go
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| And from the go, chance wasn’t nothin that he knew
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| Nothin that he was given or nothin he could have blew
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| And the road was too dark that he wanted to lead
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| But he said he saw better when his son was asleep
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| So he starts footsteppin and he saw another set
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| On the right and then he saw another on the left
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| And every night, he’s judgin off a coin toss
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| Clearin the way so that nothin throw the coin off
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| When a decision is decided, he’s either tryin to hide it
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| Or lookin for somebody that he could ride with
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| Slow breathin, goin for evens tryin to break the odds
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| So close to a murder he could taste the charge
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| But, people’s lives depended on what he scribes
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| So now his pen move differently and in time
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| The pad may fill but the pen’ll never drive
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| So as long as there’s a wall, he could penmanship his mind
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| It sort of like coppin
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| You only get half of what you wanted when you asked but you can’t seem
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| To stop it
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| I told 'em it’s just the problems we face
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| Sittin on a stoop, starin up at God everyday
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| But I felt like I was talkin to someone who couldn’t hear me
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| Until I looked up and I saw that the one near me
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| Who was lookin for advice was in common
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| I just wasn’t lookin at 'em right and his problems
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| Was similar, too similar, way too familiar
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| Lookin into his eyes, was lookin into a mirror
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| Tryin not to break it, along with who I be
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| Saw that the whole time I was arguin with me (*echo*)
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| — 4X — w/ sample playing in background
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| It’s the end of a day
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| And I made it this far |