| I hate it when you’re here but you’re not here
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| Hate it when your friends turn to old peers
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| Hate it when you talk but you don’t hear
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| Hate it when your energy feels weird
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| Last time I think I laughed, it was last year
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| Made more money last month than the past year
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| When everything feels fake, only facts here
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| I remember working back as a cashier, simpler times
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| Now it’s been three weeks, still the page is empty
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| They hang on every word I fuckin' say
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| While I appreciate you, wait for my perspective
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| Gotta keep it real, there’s somethin' else in play
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| Somethin' I can’t explain, yeah
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| Like the lyrics I find in my mind were put in my brain, damn
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| Is it really that deep? |
| Maybe it’s me
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| Then one day, I came across what the Romans believed
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| And even the Greek
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| You see, they believe we create from our Genii
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| It’s not in our genes, that got me to think
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| 'Bout rappers who claim that they’re more than just human
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| Promote what they pour in their drink
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| Was makin' me think, I needed a substance to create
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| With somethin' that wasn’t in me
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| But pardon me, please
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| Fuck all that nonsense
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| I believe that my music is bigger than me
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| If I’m bein' honest
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| And I think that it’s lame for an artist
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| To claim they’re a god or a goddess
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| Because that type of thinkin' is silently killing off all of our artists
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| While the industry profit, fillin' their wallets, damn
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| Feel like I’m on a hamster wheel
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| While I focus on makin' the music
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| You don’t need your hands to feel
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| Is it fair when we follow our passion
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| We barely can land a meal?
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| In an industry where they can take
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| They don’t need hands to steal!
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| They told me, «Go get a degree!»
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| Was stupid for followin' dreams
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| Your job was to push me to think
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| Instead you’re just hurdling sheep
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| I spill out my soul into ink
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| I told 'em I need to pursue what I love
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| If not, then I’m makin' this money for what?
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| Buy shit from a brand led by someone that does
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| I needed to find out who I really was, now…
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| They would never get it
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| Said I couldn’t do it, so they were shook when I did it
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| They never could see the vision, they never wanted me winnin'
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| I never need an opinion, I never was one to fit it
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| Too fast to follow along, then I’ll bring it back in a minute
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| I take the beat for a trip and I’ll bring it back when I’m finished
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| I see my room as a womb, and I build and grow while I’m in it
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| I’m livin', but am I livin'? |
| I can’t even tell the difference
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| Since the last four lines, it’s been about one week
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| Anxiety hit me real hard, and I think
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| I’ve been sacrificin' my own mental to prove
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| The potential in me with the music they seek
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| 'Cause the more that I’m makin', the more that they need
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| The more that I’m open, the more that I bleed
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| The more that they’re lyin', the less I believe
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| The more that I please 'em, the less that I’m me
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| I been back and forth, daily
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| Am I even making art, or did the art make me?
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| No wonder why I’m feelin' lost lately
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| Do they hate the art, or do they really hate me?
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| They’re so negative on the daily
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| But I don’t need your help, to me I’m twice as mean
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| Yeah, I’m twice as mean, it’s seemin' like your dream
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| Is really only takin' shots at my self-esteem, mo’fucker!
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| You question why you should care
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| Like, «This don’t affect what I do»
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| But maybe, just maybe, if you change your thinkin'
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| Then you would find you’d start believin' in you
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| You see, as a human, you’re made to create
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| Not just sit at a desk with some paper and glue
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| And maybe, just maybe, we do have a genius
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| So all of the blame and the praise is for two, damn
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| So, who am I when the world tells me who I should be?
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| Look around, you’ll see ideas are essential as air and sleep
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| Everything you see, it came from the mind of a human being
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| That’s mind-blowin', you’re not your mistakes or the fears you think
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| And I think, I need to pray and take care of myself more
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| Deep hidden in my mind’s where you’ll find Piece of Mind 4 |