See the horizon from the roadAnd hope that we droveThe right directionCause I don't wanna slowDown for no gasAnd plus I'm running low on cashBut I know that my bucketGon' make it to CaliforniaCaliforniaWhat does love look likeIn the 22nd centuryMerely a memoryI intervene cause I tend to beA little more optimisticThan the wildest childOr the most imaginativeI sip the tea after my opinionThey pistol-peditioned out assistanceGovernment aidWhat does it take to break the moldI hate to pose like the bass is lowBut I'm out the park like the acre goneSabot with the saber swordFocusing on what we can't affordIn the scheme of things guess it just ain't importantWho wasn't broke for a momentA three-star staining like always was freeTo stop for a moment of peaceAnd plus they would call the policeIf you kept showing your faceI said I stopped dreamingInstead I decided to chaseAnd I ain'tLook backThat's how you turn to stoneMy first friend up in high schoolWas a stoneHe said come and joinI ain't come aloneNot cause I'm high and mightyJust knew right from wrongSomewhere I belongLooked and I didn't findBut instead of me getting discouragedI got my city behind nowI'm feeling worldwideNext stop NYNext month LAThen back west sideYou change when a friend diesNew man since I lost coldHe got out of prisonThen called my phone like we're comfort zoneAnd since then I lost touchBut this year I'm getting it backI finally feel like myselfWhat I've been on don't even askThey ask me why the bucket listYou know the bucket listI finally climbed the rockMade it to the top of the precipiceI came from the pessimismOf inner city as it isAccident prone youthAdults they don't take a chanceBut we never listenWe went and did itThey vision and penSo what do you fearAnd why are you scaredWhy are you scaredWhy are you scaredSee the horizon from the roadAnd the hope that we droveThe ride that we tookThe right directionCause I don't want to slowAnd I don't need no gasAnd plus I'm running low on cashBut I know that my bucketGon' make it to CaliforniaCaliforniaSee the horizon from the roadAnd the hope that we droveThe ride that we tookCause I don't want to slowAnd I don't need no gasAnd plus I'm running low on cashBut I know that my bucketGon' make it to CaliforniaCaliforniaSee the horizon from the roadAnd the hope that we droveThe ride that we tookCause I don't want to slowDown for no gasAnd plus I'm running low on cashBut I know that my bucketCan't go and make it to California, CaliforniaYo, yo, yo, what up?It's Lupe FiascoAnd my bucket list has many things in itOne of them is I wanna win the Nobel Prize for somethingI also wantYeah, that's it, I just wanna win the Nobel PrizeHouse in a gated neighborhoodNot the hood and the heelsPlus an ocean viewYour wife and youIt's goodAnd yourippingNever stretchingWhen you get karateLess than yoursTo no more tearsLook at where tribes startLook at where tribes startLook at how you comeLook at where tribes startLook at where tribes startLook at how you comeYou can spark upLeave 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 thembitch.You look like the type of nigga to get on the CTA bus and put 200 pennies in that bitchover 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