All they care about is the look
All they care about is how people look at them
All they care about is the hook
All they care about is how the hook sounds
Honestly I listen to the words
And not the sounds of the repetitive beat
Cause the beat could be really sick
And the words could be not as sweet
I wish people didn’t worry about the look
Don’t think about the rolli, pick yourself a book
Educate, at least that’s what I do
But I know that’s not enough for my folks to let me through
I write perfect cursive
And only speak when spoken
But I realize the ones who don’t speak are the most broken
I’m tired of living a double life
Tired of thinking about weddings with my invisible wife
I’m just tired man!!!
Dag I’m just tired.
No sleep, no drugs but I seem fully wired
I play the part and they control the strings
I’m just a wooden puppet like P and his broken dreams
Of being real, and feeling alive
Walking on your own, knowing where to go without a guide
Even the GPS tells you the turns coming next
I’ve been off road for a minute, took a detour with this text
What’s wrong with taking an alternate route?
Seeing more, feeling different, taking a longer commute
Honestly I hate how people care about the look
All I want is to look good with you…
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