[Taelor Gray] Lofty Idle with my idols, I shift to Ryan Gosling Drive, moxie, this Holy Spirit proxy Communicates my next move And every step is graceful, shades of Bing Crosby And I be staring at these bars A prisoner of listeners Hoping they be caring about these bars And thus begins my sentence Thus begins my sentence, saith God, in old English verb tenses I hope you're catching it My rhymes come with this catcher's mitt But it's rarely at a faster pitch It's more like Kaepernick just outside the pocket Man, it's gain either way, look, I'm game either way Man, they saying art imitates life But I'm feeling we be wanting the reverse Searching for the answers or a canvas we can penetrate Like I'm defined by my verse or we defined by our works Like we can trust 'em Muskets stuffed with gunpowder, just to make us louder And really we just cowards Really we just clouded You see the daylight, but we late night Jimmy Fallon Sitting on that lonely island Please like my status, please like my magic I'm wearing all these hats just to pull you out these rabbits Applaud a fraud and you can see the farce But I'm with Paul and Silas 'cause I stay behind these bars [Christon Gray] In the moonlight, seems like You keep me under lock and key Oh, I'm locked away Nowhere to hide But find me dancing in the dungeon I find release today Uh, I'm including myself, no stealth, hidden agendas No self-driven opinions, I felt handy, y'all And Bill Withers had this song called Used Me Up I recorded the Fender, hits my heart And for my Lady Wisdom, I been a contender with my heart Not the most worthy defender, though Trustworthy, that is Cuz some heard me on that while others will hit me on this Trust me, I used some in the most literal sense Cause there's many more I tend to touch Plenty that don't attend a church I'm an artist, you don't gotta give me much Just tryna warm up the temperature Some yellows, reds, and the the mini-brush It's all about the details I'm only believe my signature Dominate, so dominate, subordinate Everything still needs order, Chris Really ain't that important, Chris How can we move on from this? My pride had me like I beg your pardon, I'm an artist fine His reply was: Fine art is not design To which I reply: Beg you to pardon my artist mind Seems like I'm colored out of the margin lines And all this time creating this mental prison Sentencing myself for my failure I'm the inmate and the jailer Wow, they say life is what you make it But I've made it in the bars and cages I guess I made it in the bars and cages (I guess I made it in the bars, bars) In the moonlight, seems like You keep me under lock and key Oh, I'm locked away Nowhere to hide But find me dancing in the dungeon I find release today