Bad Computer – B.o.B – letras

I’ve traveled so farCouldn’t tell you how farFeels as though I have beenA million places at onceMany lives I have livedMany battles I’ve foughtI’ve fought, and lostMass shootersBlack rulersWhat’s up to you half-truthersHotep [?]That’s humorI’m past the rumorsI’m past the humanThe body is trashA bad computerA ghost, a ghostWith massive tumorsCan’t threaten a nigga like meWith death I’d be glad to do itAnd sprinkle my ashes on my Mac computerAnd rappin’ to itWhile blastin’ FutureAnd say that’s the futureThat’s the futureIf you’re lookin for troubleYou ain’t gotta look farWithout the presence of darkWouldn’tThe year is 5625Niggas is clappin’ and stompin’ in church, waiting for Jesus to come back aliveNiggas is still (conscious) , waiting on E. T. to come out the skyStop all these crimes, mentally ill and out of their mindNigga-niggas-niggas-niggas is still awaiting for fleck to get some suppliesNiggas is still like « Damn, I was just talkin’ to so-and-so the other day, how did they die? Why? « Niggas is still (conscious) , waiting for politicians to admit that they liedSince we all comrades, (let them niggas pre-locked up in them contracts)You accept that its generous, just ’cause the man let his boot off your neck just a little bitIf that shit – if that shit – if that shit was threatening, you wouldn’t know that it did existThey wouldn’t – they wouldn’t – they would’ve hid that shit from you, like all of your historyThey brought – they brought – they brought Bill Nye back from the dead just to get a minuteThey sent so many agents my way, I could start an agency(You are nearly conscious)It’s all about branding, all about branding, feel like a fraternity, niggas wanna brand meNiggas want Grammys, niggas want families, niggas think I’m crazy, I don’t own a damn thingWhere the fuck’s the manual? They can’t understand me, they can’t understand meAll that shit must go, all that shit is trash, there is not a Plan B(You are nearly conscious)Where do all of that go, where we gon’ end up, where we all landing?This is just a shit-show, this is just a sitcom, lying on me passing(You are nearly conscious)I’ve traveled so farCouldn’t tell you how farFeels as though I have beenA million places at onceMany lives I have livedMany battles I’ve foughtI’ve fought, and lostIf you’re looking for troubleYou ain’t gotta look farWithout the presence of darkWouldn’t be any starsYou may know who I amBut do you know who you are?(You are, you are)These roads, they don’t go nowhereThese half-ways overdid itI’ve had my share of lossesI’ve had my share of lessonsAnd I sure know what hell isAnd I ask you this questionIf we, ourselves, ain’t perfectThen how could we know what heaven is like?