Letra de 3%
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You should go and quit your job
And make all of your dreams come true
How is your self esteem?
And make all of your dreams come true
How is your self esteem?
That's important in what you're about to do
Don't talk to your friends
Their opinions hold so much weight
And that doesn't make sense
Even your family, parents just don't understand
Except for Will Smith, he's got a great understanding
Make the time
Drop school and people and work to play
Music all night
You'll make a dollar an hour at least you'll like your life
And roll with the punches even when it feels like you're getting fucking jumped but you're a real bad judge of it
Hold on tight boy. Might be a hell of a ride
But they said it's a 3 percent chance
That I'm gonna make it
That's a little bit less than what it is in my mind
But it's ok, I think I can take it
They said it's a 3 percent chance
That's what they said
And then I sat there and thought about it and almost believed it for a sec
I think that they'll love me
Even if my soul is tainted and ugly
Tainted enough where no one should ever want stuff from me
But I'm lucky, lovely people say such nice things for no reason
Except for the songs that I sing them
When I was 18 I fucking prayed to god
That one day I'll sing and the crowd would stop
But I'm still waiting
For the jaws to be dropped and the bras to be sailing
I'm still waiting
For the big contract and a payment
I'm still waiting
For all of my own friends to eat all of their own words
I bet it'll taste like blood sweat and tears and the fear of regret and that ever elusive
3 percent chance
That I'm gonna make it
That's a little bit less than what it is in my mind
But it's ok, I think I can take it
They said it's a 3 percent my friend
That's what they said
And then I sat there and thought about it
And almost believed it for a sec
Now it's me versus the world
In a competition to see who can be less shitty
Hold your own and if it floats your boat
You should roll that boat home
But if my boat starts to sink I'll probably stop singing, writing poems and cut my fucking hair and quit eating like I'm homeless, get a job!
But yesterday I said, but i made 200 dollars in my first week just playing music and being who I want to be
She said. You that's an acceptable? You think that's an acceptable amount? I made twice the amount working fucking 40 hours a week at a job that I fucking hate and then I come home and want to just eat and sleep, maybe take a nap or watch tv
And then, I fucking, I was just about to say but then they cut me off
I was just about to say WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT
You think that's an acceptable amount?
It's a 3 percent chance
You'll be happy
Doing the same thing you do everyday for the next 10 years
I think it's a 3 percent chance
That every time I say "today's the day!"
You'll understand
Carpe diem
Don't talk to your friends
Their opinions hold so much weight
And that doesn't make sense
Even your family, parents just don't understand
Except for Will Smith, he's got a great understanding
Make the time
Drop school and people and work to play
Music all night
You'll make a dollar an hour at least you'll like your life
And roll with the punches even when it feels like you're getting fucking jumped but you're a real bad judge of it
Hold on tight boy. Might be a hell of a ride
But they said it's a 3 percent chance
That I'm gonna make it
That's a little bit less than what it is in my mind
But it's ok, I think I can take it
They said it's a 3 percent chance
That's what they said
And then I sat there and thought about it and almost believed it for a sec
I think that they'll love me
Even if my soul is tainted and ugly
Tainted enough where no one should ever want stuff from me
But I'm lucky, lovely people say such nice things for no reason
Except for the songs that I sing them
When I was 18 I fucking prayed to god
That one day I'll sing and the crowd would stop
But I'm still waiting
For the jaws to be dropped and the bras to be sailing
I'm still waiting
For the big contract and a payment
I'm still waiting
For all of my own friends to eat all of their own words
I bet it'll taste like blood sweat and tears and the fear of regret and that ever elusive
3 percent chance
That I'm gonna make it
That's a little bit less than what it is in my mind
But it's ok, I think I can take it
They said it's a 3 percent my friend
That's what they said
And then I sat there and thought about it
And almost believed it for a sec
Now it's me versus the world
In a competition to see who can be less shitty
Hold your own and if it floats your boat
You should roll that boat home
But if my boat starts to sink I'll probably stop singing, writing poems and cut my fucking hair and quit eating like I'm homeless, get a job!
But yesterday I said, but i made 200 dollars in my first week just playing music and being who I want to be
She said. You that's an acceptable? You think that's an acceptable amount? I made twice the amount working fucking 40 hours a week at a job that I fucking hate and then I come home and want to just eat and sleep, maybe take a nap or watch tv
And then, I fucking, I was just about to say but then they cut me off
I was just about to say WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT
You think that's an acceptable amount?
It's a 3 percent chance
You'll be happy
Doing the same thing you do everyday for the next 10 years
I think it's a 3 percent chance
That every time I say "today's the day!"
You'll understand
Carpe diem
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