[Intro]
Nuh
Not the type that will hype success 'cause I know it's all fake (Know it's all fake)
Can't express how I feel when I feel that it's all the same
So just give me one for the road (Road)
I'm tired of being alone (Alone)
From the fans with the love and my soul, I
Let it run, let it run, let it run, oh!
[Verse 1]
What up? Yeah, I'm back; I don't need a minute
Never falling off track, I don't see the finish
Let me hear you motherfuckers only seen the [?] and
Drop in head-first you don't even got your feet up in it
Everybody got a chance despite hurt and
Everybody got a voice using the right words and
Talkin' 'bout the guns, how your piece just might burst and
Sitting at the keyboard typing those fight words like
I don't wanna see another, uh, rapper with some, uh
Heat up in my comment section, like
Maybe if you spent a little time on your shit
And less time hatin' mine like you're trying to convince yourself
That you ain't wasting your time on a dream
Try to be a hotshot, Charlie Sheen
And I'm allergic to the bullshit that everybody brings
So I'm rolling to the show with a pocket of antihistamines, yeah!
'Still the body to beat, 'cause anyone who put me up against I'll probably beat
And fuck the fashion, I just put another heart on the sleeve
You need a doctor for your head and I ain't talkin' 'bout Beats now, yeah!
It's a different dimension and now
Upside down with this whack shit is evident
But they still argue the best when content with them
I do not question, bitch, I am Eleven, like (I am Eleven, like)
You don't understand this
I hopped out the mothership; crashed and landed
And got a fanbase like I rock and stand with
I murder shit, hang with me, Aaron Hernandez!
Be like "Where you been, though?"
I'm on the inside; world is a window
Now remember when things were so simple, so simple
Nuh
Not the type that will hype success 'cause I know it's all fake (Know it's all fake)
Can't express how I feel when I feel that it's all the same
So just give me one for the road (Road)
I'm tired of being alone (Alone)
From the fans with the love and my soul, I
Let it run, let it run, let it run, oh!
[Verse 1]
What up? Yeah, I'm back; I don't need a minute
Never falling off track, I don't see the finish
Let me hear you motherfuckers only seen the [?] and
Drop in head-first you don't even got your feet up in it
Everybody got a chance despite hurt and
Everybody got a voice using the right words and
Talkin' 'bout the guns, how your piece just might burst and
Sitting at the keyboard typing those fight words like
I don't wanna see another, uh, rapper with some, uh
Heat up in my comment section, like
Maybe if you spent a little time on your shit
And less time hatin' mine like you're trying to convince yourself
That you ain't wasting your time on a dream
Try to be a hotshot, Charlie Sheen
And I'm allergic to the bullshit that everybody brings
So I'm rolling to the show with a pocket of antihistamines, yeah!
'Still the body to beat, 'cause anyone who put me up against I'll probably beat
And fuck the fashion, I just put another heart on the sleeve
You need a doctor for your head and I ain't talkin' 'bout Beats now, yeah!
It's a different dimension and now
Upside down with this whack shit is evident
But they still argue the best when content with them
I do not question, bitch, I am Eleven, like (I am Eleven, like)
You don't understand this
I hopped out the mothership; crashed and landed
And got a fanbase like I rock and stand with
I murder shit, hang with me, Aaron Hernandez!
Be like "Where you been, though?"
I'm on the inside; world is a window
Now remember when things were so simple, so simple
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