How many times I gotta let you know

That you've been moving too bad now

And at my house

We got a couple games that we could play

So when you tryna meet, maybe–

I feel like this cloud too low

That's what I get for growing old

And tryna put my feet up when the work is not done

See you bumping four four, thinking am I still home

You my hunk of raw gold

This my hunk of raw gold

Break it up but don't fold

Riding down the highway

Should've done what I'm told

And when the sun got a minute

And when the sun got a minute

I get a little–

I feel a little fire

Everybody thinks it's all a given

All in my head it's not a limit

Little–

You hear it now, right in these lines

I wish I made it work last time

This another take, so write it down

Mark your calendars, it's time now

I was fighting feelings of doom

Wake up and record, like there's something to prove

Think about all of my time in my bedroom

People thought I was dead, now what could they assume

Feeling like my head's on a swivel

Pain thru a visual

The words got cold it's a riddle

You're forcing me to squeeze in the middle

It's torture knowing passion could turn you to a vigil

Now witness old homes turn bright blue

Introducing you to a new hue

I got a little test of intensity for you

So go, let the solo resume