get up - windmills lyrics
[intro]
[verse 1: rex rey]
where to go from here? it’s clear i’m on my own
yet, i still feel off the chain like stolen bicycles
it was drilled in my head that i’m a selfish f-ck
that i get on my own nerves when i talk too much
told that i live my life, disconnected and empty
with a smile that’s insane as if i’m over friendly
so do what you will, i’m still here, and i won’t leave
but look at how mean you can be, that it so sweet!
run for the hills, i’m as ill as your whole team
drove off a cliff and i landed on both feet
will i admit that i’m done with the old me?
the dirtier it gets, the more i’m feeling i’m so clean
that i don’t need molly to be rolling with these changes;
i’m at the library in a quiet meditation
d-mn! people look p-ssed off and too abrasive
with lots of personality and no conversation
an epic name is who inspired me to thinking
i’ve hit the home run, i’m just rounding all the bases
i’m sky diving into your world
designed of high flying, up from the earth
will not be defeated, h-ll is for freezing
scream till it’s peaceful as walking on beaches!
laugh at how dark it can get in this place
as if you’re eating the soul of demon for strength
i was made to be grateful, tested in faith;
of how it can rain, when they’ve spit in your face
being framework is pizza, ice cream, and cake;
so what’s next on the menu? i’m scr-ping the plate
if it’s talking to jesus behind heavens gates
then i’m not gonna leave here without saying, thanks!
i’m rocking like raida on the crossfader
his loss to the scene was a major heartbreaker
[hook]
this is me when i’m talking to myself, get up!
humiliated, degraded, so what? get up!
ashamed that you’ve been played and betrayed. get up!
get up, get up! get up, get up! get up! get up!
you’re not the first to learn how hard it is to fall;
died so many times, yet i’m living through it all, get up!
until you’re stronger than you’ve ever been before, get up!
get up, get up! get up, get up! get up! get up!
[verse 2]
to trigger every bit of you to get into the rhythm
is an easy job as if i was a southern cali weatherman
ice grilling me is fine, because you’re out of hand
for thinking you can school me on some mary had a little lamb
i’m still polite as f-ck and love my son regardless
dealing with bullsh-t like another day at the office
thirty-three, can you believe i’ve only gotten started
to feel it like an acid trip while running through the forest?
so much food for thought and yet i’m still a starving artist
raw as bands learning how to play songs in their garages
coming at full speed in two thousand fourteen
and live for these moments to hold like a trophy
cause heads have really gotten fat, fatter than some laces
while the little kid inside of them is hiding under blankets
and of course, they truly want it, they can get it then
but i refuse to believe that i’m a wicked man
cold as stories told made by al capone
cold as icicles froze to broken homes
flows that break your nose like a wishing bone
carefully composed with the microphone
i must have made the most of how to take it slow
cause, now i’m back to living fast, fast as i can go
yet, it chills me to bone, knowing how i’m not alone
and that you can have a dark soul with heart of gold
[hook]
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