[Chorus 1: Illmac]
Losing myself, but it was great to know me
Take a look at myself, tell him "You ain't the homie"
Uh, I've been M.I.A
Dead weight, hold up, y'all been in my way
Losing myself, but it was great to know me
Take a look at myself, tell him "You ain't the homie"
Uh, I've been M.I.A
Dead weight, hold up, y'all been in my way
[Verse 1: Illmac]
I just touched down in London, second time in a month
I don't even sleep on the plane, I love to see us go up
Gotta see us go up
Now they know what's up
I don't even stunt, I don't need to flex, I don't need to front
Thank my connect, I used to get it on the front
I've been on the low, yeah, I've been in the cut
Standing on my own, never need a crutch
Mama bumping Otis, cooking in the kitchen
I was picking switches, took a couple whippings
Now my brain's stuck, I base-jump, diving for my sanity
Suppressor on the barrel got me silencing my apathy
Mind is filled with anarchy
Find it in my fabric
They ain't, cut from the cloth
Nothing in common with the tapestry
Black water, wildfire, climate of reality
Tree and the Backwoods got me higher than the canopy
They bite the hand that feeds, big fish, small pond
What life is actually like, inside the hatchery
I, billow smoke and fill the room while I melt wit' you
Your touch is purple velvet moons, and feel like heroin
Eyes are mirrors that I'm staring in
The cold shoulder, dirt and worms are buried in
Breathe the pheromones, and I need air again
Carry stones on my shoulder, I bear the load
So much trouble on my mind: welcome to the Terrordome
Hitting lows: baritone
Tearing marrow from my weary bones
Scars are heirlooms, I wear a gold herringbone, woah
Losing myself, but it was great to know me
Take a look at myself, tell him "You ain't the homie"
Uh, I've been M.I.A
Dead weight, hold up, y'all been in my way
Losing myself, but it was great to know me
Take a look at myself, tell him "You ain't the homie"
Uh, I've been M.I.A
Dead weight, hold up, y'all been in my way
[Verse 1: Illmac]
I just touched down in London, second time in a month
I don't even sleep on the plane, I love to see us go up
Gotta see us go up
Now they know what's up
I don't even stunt, I don't need to flex, I don't need to front
Thank my connect, I used to get it on the front
I've been on the low, yeah, I've been in the cut
Standing on my own, never need a crutch
Mama bumping Otis, cooking in the kitchen
I was picking switches, took a couple whippings
Now my brain's stuck, I base-jump, diving for my sanity
Suppressor on the barrel got me silencing my apathy
Mind is filled with anarchy
Find it in my fabric
They ain't, cut from the cloth
Nothing in common with the tapestry
Black water, wildfire, climate of reality
Tree and the Backwoods got me higher than the canopy
They bite the hand that feeds, big fish, small pond
What life is actually like, inside the hatchery
I, billow smoke and fill the room while I melt wit' you
Your touch is purple velvet moons, and feel like heroin
Eyes are mirrors that I'm staring in
The cold shoulder, dirt and worms are buried in
Breathe the pheromones, and I need air again
Carry stones on my shoulder, I bear the load
So much trouble on my mind: welcome to the Terrordome
Hitting lows: baritone
Tearing marrow from my weary bones
Scars are heirlooms, I wear a gold herringbone, woah
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