I checked my bank, my money times ten

My pockets full, my pockets full of them dead Benjamins

Sorry Franklin, you can't solve my problem

Need a new form of healing

Think it's high time I moved on from this place

I need new sounds, new grass, new lakes

I need a new safe, nude ass, big bass

I need to find a way, to belong in this place

Dr. Z, he never really fit in with the human race

No this ain't a race, but my gas, yea

It's slammed right to my face

And speaking of the gas, I'm doing 105 and there ain't no damn brakes

Yea, I pour a fifth, yea, just to deal with all this random shit

Cause if we bein' straight nd honest I can't deal with this

I checked my bank, my money times ten

My pockets full, my pockets full of them dead Benjamins

Sorry Franklin, you can't solve my problem

Need a new form of healing

Think it's high time I moved on from this place

I need new sounds, new grass, new lakes

I need a new safe, nude ass, big bass

I need to find a way, to belong in this place

(I moved on from this place)

The never ending cycle I realized so late

This is what it is, I accept what it takes

I need to find a way, to belong in this place

(I moved on from this place)

(I moved on from this place)