[Hook]
You can find me on that country road
It's the only road that I'm gonna go
And they say
The road to Heaven is paved with gold
But I don't need no gold when I die
And
You can find me on that city street
With a half empty bottle and some ripped up jeans
And no
I don't believe in your "destiny"
'Cuz I'm going to go to hell when I die
[Verse 1]
I drink 'cuz I got problems
I drink so I can solve them
And when that don't work, I drink some more
'Cuz that's another problem
See I been running around in circles
Trying to figure this sh** out
I've been blocking out all your voices
But your sh** is too loud
See, I'm tired of hearing "do this"
I'm tired of hearing "do that"
I'm tired of hearing "you're doing it wrong"
But I'll keep on saying "screw that"
They try to box me in but I keep busting out
You can call me Chris Brown, look at me now
'Cuz I'm k**ing those beats that they thought were unk**able
Look how I fit in like every last syllable
Bow to my eloquence, beautiful, lyrical
Minds are the pa**engers, words are the vehicles
Open your mind, and let it all out
Open your life, and let go of doubt
Take up your crimes, and throw them all out
Now put up your hands, that's what it's about
[Hook]
When I say “Hell” I mean figuratively
I don't really mean it literally
You see the whole concept is fiction to me
But we're all going to die eventually
But if it turns out I'm wrong, then I'm right you see
So if I go or I don't, it don't matter to me
‘Cuz I know I'm gonna be in good company
And that's all I need, it's a comfort to me
So I say do what you want
I guess that's why I'm singing this song
‘Cuz if you don't do what your heart says to
Then there's definitely something wrong going on
Breakout –
Of your confines
Of your locked up minds
Of those used up rhymes
“That girl is fine, that girl be mine, that girl is fine” time after time after time
Get it?
No. I don't think you do
I think that all that matters is the brand of your shoes
You listen to the rattle of your chain times 2
Well those roses really smell like poo
Ooh, damn, jeez, oh god, if I sound real gruff does it make me hard?
Would you like me better with a fancy car?
‘cuz your words only count when money's involved, right?
Wrong. At least I wish it was
Instead we got gangsters with peach fuzz
Instead we got kids smoking weed ‘cuz
Their favorite rappers say they deal d**
But they don't
We know that, they know too
They're just trying to make a song
Well I am too
So just try to sing along, this beat's in two
Key of A minor, and one and two and
[Breakdown]
[Hook]