Going Home - Fashawn

I wrote this song in a damn beat and I’m totally wrong,

Staring at a window, me and my mobile phone,

Puffing off some indo, feeling so far from home,

I don’t know why I’m playing;

I’m finally on my own.

About fifty-six days, how long have I been gone?

But who’s counting I just know, it’s been a little too long.

And yeah I’m travelling,

I’m packing for my back in my Connecticut,

… this is madness, I won’t be happy until I get home!

I won’t be happy until I get home!

I won’t be happy until I get home!

And I missed the moving so fast,

I learned to take my time,

This world can be hectic;

you could be left behind,

So, we stress, and let it eat us from inside,

You got to get it off your chest and keep it off your mind.

Sometimes I wonder when I’ll see 25,

Well, I’ll be in three years, hopefully in my time.

And yeah I’m travelling,

I’m packing for my back in my Connecticut,

… this is madness, I won’t be happy until I get home!

I won’t be happy until I get home!

I won’t be happy until I get home!

Check it out!

Feels good!

Sometimes I feel like I’m right in my rightful way,

In the studio night and day,

Like… like I’m half my age,

And all I need is a mike and a stage,

Some would say, I say, I’m sick of these airplanes,

Automobiles in these… shit,

Maybe I’m right, then again maybe I’m wrong,

Another day, another song, fuck I’m taking too long,

And guess what happens…

I won’t be happy until I get home!

I won’t be happy until I get home!

I won’t be happy until I get home!

I won’t be happy until I get home!

Singing in the house,

Niggers know I’m around!