| [00:00.00] | |
| [00:06.68] | Walking through the village, hood up with no recognition |
| [00:09.43] | Compass pointed to the wind |
| [00:10.78] | Smoking, walking, never winning |
| [00:12.53] | Long sleeves so my rings don't shine in the sun |
| [00:15.35] | Young skylit wants a dollar, no I never needed one |
| [00:18.67] | Acting like funds fell down in my palms |
| [00:21.60] | Like it ain't just us, like I'm not just Bones |
| [00:24.65] | Tryna hit my phone, all you get is tones |
| [00:27.79] | Socializing is what I don't, I'm a never let it go |
| [00:31.08] | 1930's trunk, leave the cotton sleeve tight |
| [00:33.90] | My floor got grain and the sun runs the lights |
| [00:37.06] | Vanderbilt vision, only bitten with precision |
| [00:40.07] | Fountains in the kitchen spitting while the chef still flipping |
| [00:43.18] | Still death twisted, now I'm still like giving |
| [00:46.21] | But I be like takin' if my happiness go missing |
| [00:49.24] | Growing up I never listened now they wish I would've changed |
| [00:52.27] | Cause every word spoken falls upon of arrangement |
| [00:55.77] | Opinions turn to files |
| [00:57.10] | I never ever save them |
| [00:58.54] | Views turn to photographs |
| [01:00.10] | I never ever frame them |
| [01:01.88] | |
| [01:07.05] | Sesh |
| [01:12.82] | What? |
| [01:20.84] |
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