See the horizon from the road
And hope that we drove
The right direction
Cause I don't wanna slow
Down for no gas
And plus I'm running low on cash
But I know that my bucket
Gon' make it to California
California
What does love look like
In the 22nd century
Merely a memory
I intervene cause I tend to be
A little more optimistic
Than the wildest child
Or the most imaginative
I sip the tea after my opinion
They pistol-peditioned out assistance
Government aid
What does it take to break the mold
I hate to pose like the bass is low
But I'm out the park like the acre gone
Sabot with the saber sword
Focusing on what we can't afford
In the scheme of things guess it just ain't important
Who wasn't broke for a moment
A three-star staining like always was free
To stop for a moment of peace
And plus they would call the police
If you kept showing your face
I said I stopped dreaming
Instead I decided to chase
And I ain't
Look back
That's how you turn to stone
My first friend up in high school
Was a stone
He said come and join
I ain't come alone
Not cause I'm high and mighty
Just knew right from wrong
Somewhere I belong
Looked and I didn't find
But instead of me getting discouraged
I got my city behind now
I'm feeling worldwide
Next stop NY
Next month LA
Then back west side
You change when a friend dies
New man since I lost cold
He got out of prison
Then called my phone like we're comfort zone
And since then I lost touch
But this year I'm getting it back
I finally feel like myself
What I've been on don't even ask
They ask me why the bucket list
You know the bucket list
I finally climbed the rock
Made it to the top of the precipice
I came from the pessimism
Of inner city as it is
Accident prone youth
Adults they don't take a chance
But we never listen
We went and did it
They vision and pen
So what do you fear
And why are you scared
Why are you scared
Why are you scared
See the horizon from the road
And the hope that we drove
The ride that we took
The right direction
Cause I don't want to slow
And I don't need no gas
And plus I'm running low on cash
But I know that my bucket
Gon' make it to California
California
See the horizon from the road
And the hope that we drove
The ride that we took
Cause I don't want to slow
And I don't need no gas
And plus I'm running low on cash
But I know that my bucket
Gon' make it to California
California
See the horizon from the road
And the hope that we drove
The ride that we took
Cause I don't want to slow
Down for no gas
And plus I'm running low on cash
But I know that my bucket
Can't go and make it to California, California
Yo, yo, yo, what up?
It's Lupe Fiasco
And my bucket list has many things in it
One of them is I wanna win the Nobel Prize for something
I also want
Yeah, that's it, I just wanna win the Nobel Prize
House in a gated neighborhood
Not the hood and the heels
Plus an ocean view
Your wife and you
It's good
And youripping
Never stretching
When you get karate
Less than yours
To no more tears
Look at where tribes start
Look at where tribes start
Look at how you come
Look at where tribes start
Look at where tribes start
Look at how you come
You can spark up


Leave it running.
Yo, yo, yo.
Shout out to my boy, Cyberman.
It's your boy, the Ontario Huntdown, man.
You know I * with you, bro, but I got a fake or nothing when I don't bake.
Boy, your ass is like a deep fried West African squirrel with kinky twist.
Your little hot glass, boy.
Your ass is like a sophisticated hamster with micro braids.
Your little hot glass, boy.
Your ass is like a cool chimpanzee with a mop on his head.
Your little hot glass, boy.
And we heard we're high for two.
You thought we weren't going to find out.
We found out, boy.
Your ass was performing sugar pie honey bun every Tuesday on karaoke night at TGI Fridays.
You got kicked on stage because they ain't pay you with no corona tongue.
And they ain't give you no free Heineken.
Your little hot glass, boy.
Your ass is like an unpaid future with no future.
Your little hot glass, boy.
My mom's ass smell like a bag of whoop that ass and train smoke.
Your little hot glass, boy, on bass.
You look like the type of nigga that be getting the border and nachos with no cheese on them
bitch.
You look like the type of nigga to get on the CTA bus and put 200 pennies in that bitch
over the hot glass, boy.
Baby, boy.
You look like the type of nigga to get on the CTA bus and put 200 pennies in that bitch