| When I wake up, I look into the mirror
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| I can see a clearer, vision
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| I should start living today
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| Cause today is gonna be the day, is gonna be the day
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| Cause today is gonna be the day, is gonna be the day
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| Yeah, it’s like everyday I wake up, I stare into space and don’t say much
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| Peer in the mirror, feeling dead from the face up
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| Coffee pots, cigarettes, morning Js, Baileys
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| Slowing down my day before it picks up the pace
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| Beats playing since the night before, thinking bout writing songs
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| Feeling exhausted from times we toured constant
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| And plus the toxics I sip got me tall
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| Still tipsy, staring at the city from the spot we call Los Angeles
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| Every day is like a blank canvas
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| Carving my initials in the planet like I brand it
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| Hand picked to live this life we take for granted
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| like a child with an upright bass, we can’t stand it
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| Smiling through the trouble we face, tryna manage
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| my way without pumping my brakes and staying stagnant
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| Cause I can sit on my ass or just imagine
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| the madness I did on my path and paint the canvas
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| Before I rise and shine like a neon sign
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| I need the girl of my dreams to give me Einstein
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| And burn the marijuan' like Buju Banton
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| is my only bonafide break from these confines
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| I need a change of scenery like a mind tide
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| These kids bringing me the noise like the bomb squad
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| And everybody coming at me from the blindside
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| I’m tired, it’s hard to open up my eyes wide
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| I listen to some theme music on the iPod
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| and walk around the crib doing little odd jobs
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| Checking my breath, take a view from this high rise
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| Feeling like I’m checking out a game from the sideline
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| I got to try different things in these trying times
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| Twenty-ten is different than it was in nine-five
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| It’s come alive time, I picked a fine time
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| for getting open off life like a fine wine
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| Uh, yeah, Sunday morning, plan my day out
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| Whole new blueprint, brand new layout
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| Deep down still don’t know if it’ll play out
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| Before the first time, feel like I done found a way out
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| Skin getting clearer and it feel like I lost weight
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| Stop and say a prayer for the times I lost faith
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| Troubles of the world had me in a cross-face
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| Chicken-wing, sickening, liver so off-base
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| But now it’s like I’m in the last lap of the car chase
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| and I finally understand my right to choose
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| My preacher man told me it could always be worse
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| Even the three-legged dog still got three good legs to lose
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| So you can stop and refresh the rules
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| Breathe in, breathe out, let it heal all your exit wounds
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| Something inside said that’s the move
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| and made it today, I’ll restart fresh and new |