CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Hologram
And I don't need approval, I'm just tryna keep it movin' 'round
And I don't need to be so immature and juvenile
But I don't give a f**k about what they be hollerin'
If you understand it, put your hand up in the hologram
Don't need approval, I'm just tryna keep it movin' 'round
And I don't need to be so immature and juvenile
But I don't give a f**k about what they be hollerin'
If you understand it, put your hand up in the hologram
I listen to some Prince when I miss Prince
But I haven't worn my purple trench ever since
Under the bridge, I'm tryna get off the grid
Won't even let my kids put my picture up on the fridge
I'm on broken spokes, pokin' holes into ghosts
Tryna open up the show with the appropriate toast
Like, "This goes to those that's this close to closure
Like a disco where the kids go to snort they coke"
And I remember the glow of the ember on the end of
Those old cigarettes we used to smoke
And now we wanna spread love, self-care and growth
But still tryna touch the butt of this American joke
Well, I hope to see you laughin' at the finish line
Instead of lookin' at the big design like, "Give me mine"
And if my plane crash, you can keep the hashtags
Just put a couple sacks in my little man's bag
And I don't need to be so immature and juvenile
But I don't give a f**k about what they be hollerin'
If you understand it, put your hand up in the hologram
Don't need approval, I'm just tryna keep it movin' 'round
And I don't need to be so immature and juvenile
But I don't give a f**k about what they be hollerin'
If you understand it, put your hand up in the hologram
I listen to some Prince when I miss Prince
But I haven't worn my purple trench ever since
Under the bridge, I'm tryna get off the grid
Won't even let my kids put my picture up on the fridge
I'm on broken spokes, pokin' holes into ghosts
Tryna open up the show with the appropriate toast
Like, "This goes to those that's this close to closure
Like a disco where the kids go to snort they coke"
And I remember the glow of the ember on the end of
Those old cigarettes we used to smoke
And now we wanna spread love, self-care and growth
But still tryna touch the butt of this American joke
Well, I hope to see you laughin' at the finish line
Instead of lookin' at the big design like, "Give me mine"
And if my plane crash, you can keep the hashtags
Just put a couple sacks in my little man's bag
