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Basement
Greyhound, Megabus, clothes in a plastic bagFrom shelter to shelter, six kids with no dadShe left the city for a better lifeRan to a small townWhere the population was mostly whiteRacial undertones, trying to get back homeWith barely enough to keep shirts on my backboneNow ain't this real lifeNumb to what pain feel likeDemons knocking like the sound of steel pipesSame lady who gave birth never left my hometownBut she the reason I travelled the earthLocked the door, my uncle's going through her purse"Wake your brother up, they're giving free meals at church"And I can't justify how my daddy could black your eyeNow my sister can't trust a guyWe never had much, but we had usAnd my brother found home in a pair of handcuffsHow am I gonna get myself back home?The sound of bullets bounceAs I write raps in the kitchenDaddy in a cell trying to hold his ambitionWitness the transition from a boy to a martyrSell dope but go to school to be a barberThe ghetto's like a prisonYou locked but you still livingBarely breathing up until if you're leavingBut home is where the hate isAnd my cousin ain't thirty yetBut she's got eight kidsHalf look up to meBut the other half rarely fuck with me'Cause apparently, they think I see myself as betterI see my songs as simply therapyNow let's go back to that whole Greyhound bus bitMama worked there for old white folksWiping up shitTryna save ships, now close your eyes and envisionHow she turned a bus rideInto a spaceshipHow am I gonna get myself back home?Oh, how am I gonna get myself back home?My home is comprised of many elementsGrandaddy was a junkie and found homeIn a needle filled with daily medicineHome is far less based on physicality(The birds are mocking me)But embracing the mentality that you can turnEven the harshest conditionsInto an optimistic galaxy(They call to be heard)Come home daddy, it's okay now(The birds are mocking me)All the tears are dried upMama's in a better place nowNo guns unless they're video games(They curse my return)But there's a darker side to sexRock and roll and cocaineCome homeHow am I gonna get myself back home?How am I gonna get myself back home?From the basement, to the ceilingGoing back home to replace this feelingFrom the basement, to the ceilingGoing back home to replace this feeling
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