Album: The Autobiography (2017)
  • Command, we've lost control
    The engine's bound to crash
    The lightning strikes went bright
    Do not go gently
    It's just my luck
    You shot my bluff down from a thousand miles
    I'm falling fast
    I'm falling fast

    I want you to rage into the night
    I want you to blaze into the light
    Before your final flight
    But boy, you're fine, you're fine
    I want you to rage into the night
    I want you to know, know you're right
    Before your final flight
    Racing, racing, red eyes are burning rogue

    I always wondered whether leaving meant something deeper than freedom
    To be able to see everything I see when I'm sleeping
    Niggas waking up with no job, no mob lynching, we still hangin'
    White man telling niggas to ball like Phil Jackson
    Pray to Jordan, the play was enough to put up the bail
    And a train don't stop
    And we ain't have to ride the rails
    Gas in the tank, hardly enough to make it home
    They say home is where the hate is
    I'm from where they kill their own
    Probably film it on they phone, a generation addicted
    To technology, problems we face are so conflicted
    To take the burning road and just roll with the punches
    Niggas thought I was gone, I Derrick Rose from the trenches
    Same fences we jumped as a shawty still in the way
    Sometimes I wish I could fly far, far away
    Where my sins fall down like pouring rain
    I'm on slip my knot, hope I don't fall again
    Standing on my feet, feel so small to look into space
    It's heavy just to stare up there and wonder what waits
    So much we still don't understand, still right in front of our face
    I light a match, for the jets

    I want you to rage into the night
    I want you to blaze into the light
    Before your final flight
    Before your final flight
    I want you to rage into the night
    I want you to know, know you're right
    Before your final flight
    Racing, racing, red eyes are burning rogue

    Riding a burning road
    Running low, not a soul who could know
    It's every man who swept the burning ashes from the road

    I put the Halloween pistol out the trunk
    Inside my mouth, if it was real, but I would dunk
    That's fucking dumb
    How many thousand of kids would give they life to have mine?
    Without a clue about the times I'd give my life to have time
    I'm tired of waiting
    Tired of chasing pills that I'm tired of taking
    Tired of court cases, tired of judges
    Tired of saying "fuck it"
    Tired of balling around the president, deciding this shits a gift
    Two shots to life, only got one to live
    You could lose it any night
    Or down it in a fifth
    Or win a championship game
    As a man I feel pain
    As a king, I feel reign
    Ask me how I deal with fame
    As I write you from my basement
    The cards ain't changed yet
    Niggas on 47 still dealing the same shit
    Rocks, blows, ducking cops in clothes
    Came into the world naked, now I'm in all this BAPE shit
    Tryna buy a Rolex, can't even face time
    I feel like it's all wasted
    The underground getting wasted
    I spent 1500 on these bottles and this table
    I shake it before I pop, I promise I'm not stable
    But that boy do got horse power, ignore hours
    These days I lose tracks of days, been years since I felt this way
    Count on me to rage

    Before the final flight
    Before the final flight
    I want you to rage
    I want you to know, you know you're right Writer/s: Mike Dean, Ommas Keith, Victor Mensah
    Publisher: Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind


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