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letra de the message - cyrus

[verse 1]
never pressed for no religion but had a gun pressed to my temple
life is just a journey but feel more like an adventure
if i learned a thing it’s that i’m still getting better
prime is around the corner in a circle on the treadmill
used to want a grammy but the views are still impressive
if the truth is then and go don’t want that validation
trophies on our wall remind us we can’t take vacations
blinded by the lights that flicker our imaginations
i just want a painted picture you can mount to show your babies
don’t listen to the words, grasp what he was facing
the tone inside his voice when he was losing all his patience
if life is doctored up i want to be more than a patient
’cause that girl can be a b-tch, jaded green, not caucasian
got love for every color, and these colors, they blendin’
pocket full of time, think it’s time that we spend it
think you got a vibe that keep my phone so dependent
i hate the fact that we can text but you don’t get the message, yeah

[verse 2]
used to be jealous all my friends were jealous of me
just had a knack for finding net inside the bucket
i don’t follow not a person, i only follow through
but if we find each other when it’s dark, i’d hope to follow you
so unapologetic, make the most of what i’m given
these walls weren’t built to fall and i’m not here to stand for nothing
when papa had to go, i thought that’s fine, i’m coming too
i mean with what you’ve done for me, it’s only right i’m there for you
guess life just doesn’t pan out, hands on but no handouts
man up be the man now
make a plan make, let them play it out
like a forest needs every single tree there’s a person there losing oxygen
probably right here, right inside the room where the elephant where hope exists
had some people that wanted to phase me out
remember elephants don’t forget
plenty reasons i should end the call but kinda fascinated, what they say next?
and i ain’t wasting time with no loose ends
humor god if he made them
be i shoot the shit when that shit miss
i’m lebron james, and it’s game six, so

[verse 3]
and i’ve been lost for a second
i’m the subject of lesson
my momma raised me to talk
but i don’t talk over my momma
and i hate drugs bae, but like them more than depression
life been f-cking me and only letting me c-m if you’re second, yeah
f-ck your first impression
ego need a sandwich
that shit hungry for attention
you can have my twitter i don’t care to look impressive
plus the cost to be myself is looking pretty d-mn expensive, yeah
i can’t express how much i don’t care
you should worry more about the shit that people don’t share
see it in your eyes, your shoulder got the co-stare
are you really surprised a young white rapper got his moment
see you should reconsider, only throw these no-hitters
swinging for these fences on a field that won’t forget us
guess that i’m my worst critic measure distance and commodity
it’s looking like forevers in the god that’s right inside of me, so

[outro: cyrus’ grandmother, on phone]
h-llo cyrus, this is your grandma gatewood. just wondering how you were doing. i called your mom and she didn’t call back yet so i just thought i would try you. i hope i got the right number. *buzz*

- cyrus

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