| If they call, I’m on the road |
| Looking for which way to go |
| In the place I call my own |
| But I never feel at home |
| I don’t belong here, I gotta move on here |
| Looking for anything to help me feel |
| I’m just looking for something |
| Not somebody, I’m nobody |
| I ain’t worried 'bout my status socially |
| Some people know me locally |
| And other people know me globally |
| I speak calmly, walking, hands in pockets |
| Options rotting in my closet |
| Life is cycles, I can’t idle |
| My mind spirals, I can’t stop it |
| Just stop it, just listen, I spit facts, they speak fiction |
| I reach back and I stretch, they stressing out and they tripping |
| Precision, my blade, see it swinging 'round my finger |
| You can bark and show me those fangs, but I’m really no stranger to danger |
| I know that you see me now |
| Going up, no coming down |
| They used to be so full of doubt |
| So go around, don’t come around |