My tolerance is so high that it's reaching the sky
Will transition from blue to black
Begins in my oxygen is now dry
And I call this firefly
Yes, I call it the firefly
My tolerance is so high that it's reaching the sky
Will transition from blue to black
Begins in my oxygen is now dry
And I call this firefly
Yes, I call it the firefly
Now that I've evolved, I'm coming back for each and all of you
My hands are that of gigantic proportion in the solitude
So I can handle all humans and animals alike
Take on the zombies and creatures and cure their appetite
Make everything that was wicked, vicious and evil
A part of this new perception that everything is now equal
Or positive, negative, man or woman, God or the devil
Just user and game adventure 'til you reach the final level
Clickety-clack, I came back in a matte black Cadillac
Stacked with cash asking where the party at
Lickety-split, took a hit then bit into that big red apple to the pit
And that was that
I started swinging bats at both sides
Everybody die, everybody die
Testify, learned to lie
I kept running amok until it hit the bottom of the cup
Reached for a buck, damn and I was stuck
My frustration and fixation on what I was worth in weight
I took out on the whole nation
Then I got a tug on the arm, full of alarm
Turned around and found God there waiting
No way to explain this feeling, it's much more than emotion
It transcends all experiences, no downloaded notions
Our imagery instead open to all who focus
On what is seen as a possibility, know it is opus
A magnum magna carta, Yeezus, Wolf, and Doris
Post-traumatic syndrome disorder, ignore the chorus
And listen to what we say and there's color inside these lines
Texture beneath the surface defined with every rewind
Some will require taste, some are right in your face
Some are far away as satellites that orbit in space
Some are narrators who struggle, some just speak for the streets
Some are rebels, some are cowards, some just speak 'bout their needs
Some of them rich and speak about treasure and nothing else
Some of them poor and speak about treasure through someone else
Vicariously living through others wealth, but have the voice
Of conviction convincing you that they are left with no choice
So we chase down all of all-lasting glory
Then we find out underneath there's a story
About a boy who left and finally came home
When he realized that he ran from his throne
So we chase down all of all-lasting glory
Then we find out underneath there's a story
About a boy who left and finally came home
When he realized that he ran from his throne
So we chase down all of all-lasting glory
Then we find out underneath there's a story
About a boy who left and finally came home
When he realized that he ran from his throne
(A boy who left and finally came home)