Lyrics:
break me
And when I feel this heart beat in my chest
My hand picks up the pen and I forget about the rest
All I know is when I look at the page
Words have
president: I wrote this on a page, Kennedy!
Paid 70 for the Tesla, what a gesture
They wrote my name over the top, nothing extra
Dealer thought I was
three wise men.
Wise Man 2: We are astrologers. We have come from the East.
Mandy: Is this some kind of joke?
Wise Man 1: We wish to praise
fast changes
Winds blows past pages
All I see is I don't need this
High-strung tight rope walk
Ticking time bomb clock
Scratch my name
Cut these
night skies, talked about in song,
We play along, so bitter sweet by our design.
I'm sick and tired of writing songs about you,
This is it, this is
learn, so read on
You gotta turn the page, read the book of Taliesyn
Hear the song of lovely Joan
Her sound so sweet and clear
In the courtroom
the morning before fornicating the Lord
They gave birth to me 44 days later drinking a 40 at the coroner's door
Therefore, this is more than just my dormitory
anymore
I only want to hear love songs
I found my heart up in this place tonight
Don't want to sing mad songs anymore
Only want to sing your song
to the Roc)
This is the last call for alcohol for my niggas
(Mr. Rockefeller)
So get your ass up off the wall
So this A&R over at Roc-A-Fella, named Hip
Hallowstream, Hallowstream, Hallowstream, Hallowstream
Candace busting everywhere
Bob's Bugs Begone is a good scare
Not my job, but I agree
On this page
a reflection of your heart. That words alone could never capture. When I write a Christmas song, it is almost always born from a moment in my life, inspired by
why
Man, this is real life and I've been going through it
All the struggle and the pain in my heart, if only you knew it
I put it into this music, I'm
you'll be a go-getter
Now the way that you shake my hand
Will tell me how I stand
Now isn't it better to go through life with a smile and a song
Then
The few who noticed the depths of this opus
If you can soak this in as more than song
You will be known as the chosen men after I'm gone
My death is rife
I
Mhm
Rip my lil bro
Wish I could of saved em
Free my cousin Booty he a real shooter
Zeek that Guy
Yea
That Guy on the song so the track good
Damn I
Waiting for occasions to escape with hopes courageous
As my book goes it's like one page never changes
The cycle is my enemy that tortures me and fazes
did it
Yeah, they took my gift and they blind me (blind me)
Where the fuck is my money? (Where)
Now here comes this big ass conspiracy (uh)
But
song
I stabilize many cableized viewers
So my occupation's known but not why I occupy
And that is to bring the peace
Not in the flower but
What if a song could turn the page
What if it could take you
Into the next place God has for you
What if a song is the very thing you need
To bring
everything, he told me to go home
And I had no way to prove that the song was my own
Meanwhile, Jimmy Page was stealin' all my guitar riffs
And that is why Led
brothers
So my kin gully and my skin toughened
Thick lens coverin' my eyes now
They ain't bright, nigga, I'm just high now
And if this a different way
Once upon a time in this ionosphere city
Baby, you can see the picture on page twenty-five
Maybe it's the way that makes the destination pretty
night skies, talked about in song,
We play along, so bitter sweet by our design.
I'm sick and tired of writing songs about you,
This is it, this is
keep tossing in my mind, in my mind
I hate the vagueness in your walk your talk
The upbeat in your speech as if nothing ever fell apart
I’m consumed by
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