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I put my life on the line I’m on and bassin’, I’m fine Cuz all I ever dreamt about was making it They ain’t giving it, I’m taking it I’m taking it, taking it, I ain’t giving it I’m taking it, taking it, I ain’t giving it I’m taking it, taking it, I ain’t giving it I’m taking it, taking it, I need all that shit Nobody winnin’ this slogurr The police would’ve noticed Gotta be strategic, I’m creepin’ Go and leave with that motive Hold up, my plan is stormin’ All right, casin’ this building Watch these rappers step back And walk in and leave that with millions Cut of that sweater, open that front door And it’s gold printed out by the entrance door closes Then a metaphor, then I start chorus That part, that’s right, meaning shotgun Dressed in an uniform, looking like a general All blue, jumpsuit, why shoot? Bloodthirsty and I’m eatin’ like a bull Looking in the eyes of the matador (fuck you!) Letras de cancionesCarrying 2 cans of paint Security looks at me awkward I say therefore I’m late Getting Jimmy out his office And my breath ‘bout to fade I’m scared to death of these stalks me Heart beating so loud you can hear the echo in that lobby And see I break it down if I don’t make it out Then I’m leaving town with that contract And I’m spazzing out, cover the in or out This chair and I’m picking them hostages I don’t give a fuck, step into the elevator preston Now I’m headed up (east) Where they don’t know there’s a gram I the paint can And I’m ready and willing to bust ‘em, fuck ‘em Sprick, stuck in this recession not what you think But if I get out my luck is destined Might be good, depends on ink And secretary at the front of the entrance staring right at me I walk out, she whispers go ahead and then gives me a wink I put my life on the line I’m on and bassin’, I’m fine Cuz all I ever dreamt about was making it They ain’t giving it, I’m taking it I’m taking it, taking it, I ain’t giving it I’m taking it, taking it, I ain’t giving it I’m taking it, taking it, I ain’t giving it I’m taking it, taking it, I need all that shit If I pass security, the secretary, the cubicals But it’s weird, it’s like this room I’ve walked into is unusual Better be styli and beautiful Better be alive and like musical But it feels like someone died, it’s got the vibe of a funeral These numbers on the chalkboard See these box, they cardboard All these the blocks that got dropped and never got to be sophomores Nothing goes down, I’m just sitting around Waiting for albums that never come out Complainin’ the day have nobody in the house Wonderin’ within if they hardcore I start pickin’, am I in the right place? Just walk towards See Glocks on the wall Oh yea, and the second dose will be all yours Finally see an office with a melted sign, heaven sent Big block silver letters, read it out loud: President This was my chance to grab that contract and turn and jack I can feel a cold hand grab on the back of my neck He said: we’ve been watching you, so glad you could make it Your music gets so impressive in this whole bang you created You one hell of a bang, we here think you’re destined for greatness And with that right song we all know that you’re next to be famous Now I’m sorry, I’ve had a long day Remind me, now what your name is? That’s right, Macklemore Of course, today has been crazy Anyway, you ready? We’ll give you a hundred thousand dollars After your album comes out we’ll need back that money that you borrowed It’s really like a loan, a loan? Come on, no 1-2, 360 degrees, we will beat your goals You’ll get it done in the murks that you sell out on the road Along with the third of the money you make when you’re out doing your show Manager gets 20, booking agent gets 10 So shit, after taxes you and Ryan have 7%? Just split That’s not bad, I’ve seen a lot worse None will give you a better offer than us I replied I appreciate the offer, though that this is what I wanted Rather be a starving artist than succeed at getting fucked From Letras Mania