| Where I go, where I go from here?
|
| Oh I, no I, could be nowhere
|
| And trust that all that money’s good for nothin' if you scared
|
| Singin', yeah, yeah
|
| Look
|
| I am no fashion model but
|
| I got fresh for photographers
|
| The camo coat had the collar up
|
| 'Cause my emotions was bottled up
|
| And though the ocean did not erupt
|
| It turned up till it’s loud enough
|
| To just make somethin' out of us
|
| Pass the shadow of a doubt in us
|
| Godly, geometry and calculus
|
| That I can move any mountain with
|
| A nigga gotta be an alchemist
|
| Tryna create another avenue of revenue
|
| Or several 'cause I’m in love with havin' you
|
| Security is just a whole 'nother animal
|
| I can’t assume Xanadu had a panic room
|
| I wish the man in the moon had a manual
|
| And gratitude for the wishes I’ve granted you
|
| A lifetime, finally I’m understandin' you
|
| The lifelines that delines in a hand or two
|
| And how it’s difficult to undo the damage you’ve done
|
| Once the codes run under scanner too
|
| So if you capture the flame and it’s painful
|
| You just charge that to the game
|
| 'Cause it’s shameful to just fall back and complain
|
| That you fractured the laws of attraction again
|
| Focus on the more passionate plane
|
| No conception’s immaculate, man
|
| Where I go, where I go from here?
|
| Oh I, no I, could be nowhere
|
| And trust that all that money’s good for nothin' if you scared
|
| Singin', yeah, yeah
|
| Once again to the well, I went
|
| While the soul man screamed bloody hell out then
|
| I’m trying to decode the meaning of the spell I’m in
|
| And I don’t even know what fucking hotel I’m in
|
| I checked in as the monarch of mel-a-nin
|
| The el-a-phant, my body is a shell I’m in
|
| Piecin' myself together, teachin' myself to never
|
| Let one loss divorce my devel-op-ment
|
| Reminds me of ego trippin' like Nikki Giovanni
|
| Wishin' the system might deliver me a body
|
| Cum laude, the rug on the floor was from Saudi
|
| The message I’d hung on the door was unrowdy
|
| No dowry, the price of it all was one calorie
|
| Now we the last fly house on The Bowery
|
| Human traffickin', moving Africans
|
| Still rapping with fantasies, fill the bracket in
|
| And if you capture the flame, and it’s painful
|
| Then just charge that to the game
|
| 'Cause it’s shameful to just fall back and complain
|
| That you fractured the laws of attraction, again
|
| Focus on a more passionate plane
|
| Estimate a more accurate frame
|
| Of time, a frame of mind attached to the sane
|
| No conception’s immaculate man
|
| Where I go, where I go from here?
|
| Oh I, no I, could be nowhere
|
| And trust that all that money’s good for nothin' if you scared
|
| Singin', yeah, yeah |