Live Forever
Yo, check it out
See
I had this dream about fame the other night
And it went
It went something like this:
It went no time is
In effect and corporate crime is
In effect and miscreations
In effect and obligations
In effect and corporate crime is
In effect and obligations
In effect and miscreation...
See I woke into a matrix of my own, making
Or was it in full effect, before my career took its first step?
I relied on spite for fuel
But now it seems that everyone's faking, smiles
Or could it be that now they really see me?
See me on billboards and magazines made in my own graven image wearing a charisma, made of cash
And interviewers can't see past me to the real me
But originally me was timid
But now I'm bold and cold and fresh, as in my bed waiting for the big flash and the band to bring the love down
Everything's better now so we round in gin and jovial grins
But a man can't swim, forgot how fame feels
Flashing face cards, fantasizing how we used to pound the paint or push the tape, but yesterday is just as fake as today
"Remember way back in the day, man?" he'll say, "These shorties with no names and faces that live in the wallets will, in the toilet, flash."
Pose for a second, let this last
Check in to next year and hotel beds soaked in fear;
Fame, don't leave now! I never learned how to do nothing else! A brother got caught in other shit but an artist undercover with skills...
"Skills." I know I ain't said that in a long time
But, fame is fleeting, I'm afraid of meeting with the grave or an expressionless face like "Who you? A star that did fade?"
And the honeys won't stay once they know I was manufactured and made
And the next in line to break through was coming with freshly assembled thug crew
To snatch out the next cake, and I become the new "who?"
I need to know, true
Why is the TV the only place that I can see my lonely face and these mirrors won't accept my reflection?
I have a question
Why is the TV the only place that I can see my lonely face and these mirrors won't accept my reflection?
I have a question
See
I had this dream about fame the other night
And it went
It went something like this:
It went no time is
In effect and corporate crime is
In effect and miscreations
In effect and obligations
In effect and corporate crime is
In effect and obligations
In effect and miscreation...
See I woke into a matrix of my own, making
Or was it in full effect, before my career took its first step?
I relied on spite for fuel
But now it seems that everyone's faking, smiles
Or could it be that now they really see me?
See me on billboards and magazines made in my own graven image wearing a charisma, made of cash
And interviewers can't see past me to the real me
But originally me was timid
But now I'm bold and cold and fresh, as in my bed waiting for the big flash and the band to bring the love down
Everything's better now so we round in gin and jovial grins
But a man can't swim, forgot how fame feels
Flashing face cards, fantasizing how we used to pound the paint or push the tape, but yesterday is just as fake as today
"Remember way back in the day, man?" he'll say, "These shorties with no names and faces that live in the wallets will, in the toilet, flash."
Pose for a second, let this last
Check in to next year and hotel beds soaked in fear;
Fame, don't leave now! I never learned how to do nothing else! A brother got caught in other shit but an artist undercover with skills...
"Skills." I know I ain't said that in a long time
But, fame is fleeting, I'm afraid of meeting with the grave or an expressionless face like "Who you? A star that did fade?"
And the honeys won't stay once they know I was manufactured and made
And the next in line to break through was coming with freshly assembled thug crew
To snatch out the next cake, and I become the new "who?"
I need to know, true
Why is the TV the only place that I can see my lonely face and these mirrors won't accept my reflection?
I have a question
Why is the TV the only place that I can see my lonely face and these mirrors won't accept my reflection?
I have a question
Credits
Writer(s): Richard Powell, Martin Neil Jackson, James Donald Davies
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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