| Through your eyes you think we’re all the same
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| Through your eyes we’re all the same
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| Through your eyes you think we’re all the same
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| Through your eyes we’re all the same
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| Through your eyes you think we’re all the same
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| (Tell me can you see me now?)
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| Through your eyes we’re all the same
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| (t-t-t-t-t-t-t-tell me can you see me now?)
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| I’m an optical illusion
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| Your expectations of me awaiting stone like Medusa
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| Lashing at me ripping out my mortal being
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| But your foundation is flimsy and slowly crumbling
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| Everything has an end
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| Now let’s pretend that pipe dreams are made of medicine
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| Make me feel better again
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| Made me feel better than them
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| Or true or false sitting together again
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| I can’t despise the way you capitalize
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| On situations the way you always seem to
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| It’s been a surpise the way you speak those lies
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| Reassuring and convincing me that I’m somebody, too
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| But I’m not
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| See, you wouldn’t comprehend this
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| Insignificant magic deep within, inside
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| But you wouldn’t realize
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| That if I was looking through your eyes then I would wanna die
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| I need the bogs and jungles and planets that you ain’t never heard of
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| Sit with gorillas in the mist and blaze the herb up
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| My thoughts are fixed with a 12 gauge
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| My skin is all covered in paint from head to toe
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| Trying to hide me from the sun rays
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| My wicked ways will be death of y’all
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| My reflection is your curtain call
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| Bless me father, hear us all
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| My contemplations premeditated
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| I’m heavily medicated
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| Into the underground is what I’m dedicated
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| I can’t handle so I blaze the weed
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| And I give a fuck less bitches if ya hating me
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| Just wait and see in turn full circle on the bottom again
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| Lookin up watching all the clouds
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| Turn purple, like your back ass out
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| I thought I told y’all motherfuckers, bitch we don’t die
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| I ain’t the one to blow your head off to the scapegoat
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| The one you bitches blame cause you sinking in your boat
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| Bitch I slit your god damn throat
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| And leave ya twitching
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| Twiztid ain’t the reason why yo ass bullshitting
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| (RADIO)
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| Them suckas scared to play this
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| Underground bitch, it ain’t no love for the famous
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| Get your ropes cut quick, low maintenance
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| Sitting in the dark and I ain’t got to make the playlist
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| Effortless excuses (my bad)
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| For why they don’t saturate situations for they nooses
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| And who are we to go and call you out?
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| We done heard all the stories and don’t what the fuck they talking about
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| I’m not a puppet, so don’t pull my strings
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| I don’t need nobody trying to hold me, console me, control me, shit
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| You’re the one trying to change me, make me into something that I’m not |