heart of gold (chain) - anderson .paak lyrics
[verse 1: nocando]
i was up in berlin
maybe it was belgium
talking up a whirlwind
pretty young thing
n0body’s for certain
riding her wave
god, she was surfin’
two hearts hurtin’
broke beat perfect
[?] to like pain
sweatin’ like rain on my (chain)
left a little stain
was she runnin’ game?
i know i was runnin’ game but
[chorus: anderson .paak]
i wanna live
i wanna give
i’ve been a miner for a heart of gold
it’s these expressions
i never give
that keep me searching for a heart of gold
(gold all in my watch, gold all in my chain)
keep me searching for a heart of gold
(gold all in my watch, gold all in my chain)
[verse 2: anderson .paak]
searching for something
so we entered through the matter to find what we needed
it’s so much harder than i fathomed, my logic divided
if all i wanted was a hit, then i’d probably be famous
to be respected by my peers was the reason i did it
go five years in the struggle, ain’t much to a n-gga
when one week of livin’ lavish can f-ck up your liver
who needs provision when you covered in diamonds and pendents?
who needs the temporaries when b-tches are dyin’ to get it?
i copped the ring, i caught feelin’, abandoned the bride
sold that sh-t for half the price just to keep on the lights
look in the eyes and be surprised if there’s anything worth mentioning
broken-hearted in misery, pity
but while i dwell, i owe a lot of n-ggas
before i finished this sentence, i promised to make bail
[chorus: anderson .paak]
i’ve been to hollywood
i’ve been to redwood
i crossed the ocean for a heart of gold
i’ve been in my mind
it’s such a fine line
that keeps me searching for a heart of gold
(gold all in my watch, gold all in my chain)
keeps me searching for a heart of gold
(gold all in my watch, gold all in my chain)
[verse 3: milo]
here it goes, another diatribe from leopold
screaming at minors not to make the same mistakes when we’re old
i was a miner for pyrite
now i’m in pricerite buying pie tins and thin mints
shin splints for a retired digger downsized signal thin hints that i’m a retired n-gga
i’m just looking for a woman who will let me sing in the shower now
for a woman who doesn’t have dwight eisenhower brows
i feel dumb listening to neil young, i recline
the spiel was sung and still i decline
the laughing track was always lethal
and i can never remember what size you like your frappuccinos
you say those heart pains were a fluke
praying to saint luke in the morning
never glanced up from reading marmaduke, i’m in mourning
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