RUN

Yeah

Fluidity
A spectrum
From one end to the other
Just like butter
It's spread and smothered
Like, on your bread it's covered
I don't need your jam to recover from what you said was dry
Because I, you see, can and will use all means necessary to make us see eye to eye

See, eyes don't see eye
Then cry, looking up to the sky, wondering, "Why?
Why I? Why mine?
My happiness," but you're blind
Didn't you say that was bliss?
Sis, I'm confused
But I'd rather be that than used, unapproved
But you proved that you will bend to all their rules
While I bend the rules

You're sitting up on their stools, being spoon-fed
They're adjusting your seat level and telling you, "Go to bed"
Making you comfortable enough to deepen your slumber
To deep end your followers
Keep stems of your problems
Weaken, now you're crumbling

Peep in to your trauma
And creep into your struggles
Now, it's the end, you're abducted
And flung across the universe
Tell me if it hurts when you hit the other end of the spectrum
Fluidity

Whoa, yeah, yeah, yeah
Whoa, yeah
Whoa, whoa

"Run," I was instructed at the sound of the gun
I sunk back into my seat, nibbling on what was left to eat
The door swung wide, but little did I know it wasn't open for me
But I still jumped to my feet when I heard that door creak
While I'm mesmerized, they fetishize that moment in the spotlight
When I reach my hand out, it seeps through the bars like my bars, like carbon monoxide
By that time you'll realize it's too late
'Cause you thought that while I'm in this cage, I awaited my shine
And sadly reached my peak, or rather, my plateau

Little did you know that the ceiling was too low for me
It occurred to me that perhaps my way up is my way through
Like, remember in those cartoons where we'd get confused?
Like look at this dude, he only has like two bars, but I can still see his way through
What a fool
That's what us artists think of ourselves, we're not selfish enough
I cry on these four steel walls, but they'll get rusted
When you come up to me asking, "I'm surprised, are you still doing this music thing?"
I contemplate replying like
"I'm surprised that, emotionally, you haven't spontaneously combusted"

So, yes, I'm still doing this music thing
And when you just hear me rap and sing
You forget you're blocking out your vision
While I still have this third sense feeling that I'm sprouting wings
From the outside, you hear it, from the inside, you see it, from within, you can feel it
It all just depends on your perspective
So I just gotta stop feeling down, irrespective
Of the collective going ahead of me (yeah)
'Cause to be honest, it's not them that's making me feel this way or trapped to go figure
I guess it's just me looking in a stagnant mirror

Yeah
It's N-Y-O-T-A
Yeah