75%

Seventy-five percent (uhh-uhh)

Seventy-five percent, just not enough to make a Friend (uhh-uhh)

Sevenety-five percent, never fully loaded

And I aint gonna pretend

Dont wanna sugar coat it

We cool, but we was never close

Just some Moments of shared Laughter

We shook Hands to part ways after

Substances but no real Substance there to begin with

Had a Feeling this was really nothing real but just a way to kill Time, got Shit on my Mind, yea Thoughts kept inside

I really could cry & so you should too

But we never do

We never talk bout repressed Thoughts

Bout the real Stress or

Adress what we have to

When I ask you how you are

All get Is a Report

Bout the job, bout the Car man, small talk is art

And I feel like on an Exhibition

Paint a perfect Picture

So good, that to appreciate it,

I need extra Distance

Nothing personal

But then again what isn’t

Twenty-five percent more, that´s the Mission

Seventy-five percent (uhh-uhh)

Seventy-five percent, just not enough to make a Friend (uhh-uhh)

(make a friend)