Lyrics Childish Gambino – Be Alone
Text:
Hook:
I don’t wanna be alone
I don’t wanna be alone
I don’t wanna be alone
I don’t wanna be alone
I don’t wanna be alone
I don’t wanna be alone
Oh, oh, oh
‘Cause ya know, somewhere inside
I cannot find
The feeling I got from you
No, somewhere inside
I cannot find
The feeling I got from you
Verse 1:
Hard for a pitchfork, soft for a Rockefeller
Music was my side chick, but now we’re moving in together
Always felt misunderstood, I guess I have to tolerate
My swag Jehovah Witness, dude, it never take a holiday
APC jeans, brown leather jacket on
Kitsuné cable knit, cardigan from Rag & Bone
Thick Filipino chick, homemade bracelet
Her booty make her just a rapper, she ain’t gotta say shit
I’m someone they admire
Set the game ablaze, I’m an arcade fire
Laughed at my rides like my motion was funny
Yes, ashy to classy, my lotion is money
The ride is easy when the dollar’s there to grease the wheels
Now everybody tell me what to do and how to feel
I am feeling more alone than I ever have felt before
I wanna pick up the phone, ask my dad how to handle it
But what will happen when my dad’s not there to answer it?
I try to clear my mind of thoughts that only slow me down
Like when these niggas call me «faggot» and «we homies now»
But we are not homies, I just keep you around
‘Cause all your talkin’ is the noise I need to kill this sound
Have all these voices tellin’ me no one can help me out
We are alone I’m just the only one to figure out
Hook
Verse 2:
«You are the bestest, I will obey you»
These words I wrote for you when you were fuckin’ other dudes
The only thing I need from you now is some solitude
Actions over words, «girls will be girls, » that’s all it proves
I used to be this guy sittin’ with an open heart
Now my computer screen’s the only place I feel a spark
I don’t fuck with fake bitches except for when I fuck with fake bitches
Canon 5D to take pictures of these girls who wouldn’t talk to me a year ago
49er chick askin’ for money, she get zero, though
Here I go again talkin’ money, women, and clothes, and cars, right?
You could switch all of my words out with Plies’, right?
People sayin’ we’re the same, please, come from under me
We are just some rappers, got no luxury of subtlety
No subjects when we’re rappin’, we say it like we hear it
I put it on a track but I hope you get the spirit ’cause
Hook
