Kunci: A minor
Intro 1
Am
G#
Am
G#
Verse 1
Am
G#
Am
From abstract aether to street concrete,
G#
I've witnessed either scheme just to eat.
Now this is defeat of a track
star outrunning himself.
G
The game of solitaire confinement,
Am
G#
chakra air alignment, respiration refinement.
Am
G#
Findin' in a line,
drop dimes on the divine
Am
G#
Until the sign sent, with no con vent
Am
G#
Spent five percent with the intent
G#
Am
G#
Am
G#
G#
If not, I'm takin' mine
Am
Cut the twine and redesign
Remix for the final nine
G#
Had the crew inside the ride
G
G#
Broadcastin' it by satellite
Satellite
Broadcastin' it by satellite
Satellite
G
Broadcastin' it by satellite
G#
Bbm
In other words, we expand past the
G#
confines of time and space
Rhymin' race, odds and face to violate
I tried to wake but found myself
brought by the bait
I'm swimmin' upstream to
G#
Now that I've been a base
case in my base
Playing all the balls around,
whatever the hell that means
I left my favorite briefcase in
New
Orleans
Playing all the balls around,
whatever the hell that means
It hates that you missed it,
the sunset is predicted by the structure of the vision
Ab
So fear that your decisions
resonate with your affliction
In fact it's the addition of the
past onto the mission
G
The point in time is critical,
G#
the junction of the physical
Supernova visual,
we'll deal with the residual
Ab
Like hurricanes and earthquakes,
Ab
Ab
it's higher ground when levees break
What you forsake is yours to fake,
decisions made for you to make
Bbm
Ab
Time is running, no delay
There's ever a guarantee,
time is running, no delay
There's ever a guarantee,
time is running, no delay
There's ever a guarantee,
so bear with me, I'll barely
Ab
share of the future, shop!
G
Ab
Future, shop!
I left my favorite briefcase in
New
Orleans
Playin' on the ball's ground,
whatever the hell that means
I left my favorite briefcase in
New
Orleans
Playin' on the ball's ground,
Interlude 1
whatever the hell that means
Ab
Verse 2
Ab
Ab
10, 9, 8, 7,
Am
Ab
7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
Am
Ab
Am
Ab
Am
A
G#
9, 8, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
Now nothing in this short
life is ever guaranteed.
So bear with me,
I'll barely see tomorrow's share of the future shot.
Future
Shock
There's ever a guarantee
G#
Broadcastin' it by satellite
G
G#
Time is runnin', no delay
I left my favorite briefcase in
New
Orleans
Playin' all the bars around,
Ab
whatever the hell that means
You
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