Pure Imagination

Do I have talent, dad? Of course, you have talent! You got all the talent in the world Can I be a baseball player? You can be anything you wanna be Remember, the saddest thing in life is wasted talent You could have all the talent in the world, but if you don't do the right thing, then nothing happens But when you do right, guess what? Good things happen You heard me? Yeah Yeah Yeah Woke up, couldn't remember what my dream was, but it was probably the same one Where I'm sitting at a easel in the rain with a masterpiece, trying not to let the paint run It ain't really nothing new, cousin, bareknuckle Boxing with the snooze button, but he never stays down I've had mornings where I wanted to tell them I wasn't coming, but, man That's how I'm feeling every day now Take a breath, punch the clock, here we go again Straighten out the nametag, tuck the polo in Trying to swallow my pride, but going out of my mind Taking orders from motherfuckers, I'm older than Lunch break, come back to make chump change Starting to feel like I'm running out of somedays Yeah, cross my heart, hope to die, my love letter with no reply, close my eyes and imagine What if anything could really happen? What if daydreams was everlasting? (Uh) I know it's silly, ain't it, but what if I really made it And could say that I rap without feeling humiliated, I would Send a thank you to everybody I proved wrong Be in the studio before I put my shoes on Jump out my bed every morning like a youngin' on December twenty-fifth and tear the ribbon off a new song They would love it and they'd play it loud Pour out my heart on the cut, they'd soak it up like a paper towel They would stop me in the street every week just to say "Keep holding down the city, boy, you make us proud" I'd be happy as can be, duke, like I jumped right out of the fishbowl and into the deep blue But there I go, letting my mind get ahead of me, swimming in a rainy day reverie Clock out, bus home, and change costumes Sometimes I wonder what I'm in it for Another night, another 20 minute chance to convince 20 people that I'm worth 20 minutes more If I knew that even one lone listener was with it, I would spit it till the club had to close down Like a tired old horn player blowing with his case propped open on the street in a ghost town Take a breath, grab the mic, here we go again Crowd thinning, I pretend that I ain't noticin' They said, "Richie, yo you know we got your back" "But it's late, and we ain't sitting 'round waiting for the show to end" Type of night that turn bangers into sad songs Didn't even make enough to catch a cab home Same train, same lonely ride, the cold world rolls slowly by, close my eyes and imagine What if anything could really happen? What if my profession was my passion? What if I could sit in the back, hit every city on the map And get the hell up out this labyrinth I'm trapped in? It goes hotel, motel, holiday inn, around the world with my crew, we just follow the wind, for real No more waiting on a wish, no more hanging 'round Put the sails up and never let the anchor down I would light up every face in the crowd, cold tearing up the mic like ice in a blender Laughs and wild times, hellos and goodbyes and too many unforgettable nights to remember I would wonder if it all could be what it seems Nobody wake me up, please, life is but a dream But there I go, letting my mind get ahead of me Drowning in a rainy day reverie Pure imagination