Ninelevenne

I had a dream that I could drive my way to heaven

My car of choice, a Porsche 911

I asked God if he can hear my engine revving

0 to 60 in three seconds

A James Dean premonition, crashing

My suicide will be his resurrection

Conversations with women who claim to see perfection in my imperfections

A final rebel that's without cause

James Dean, a broken heart of boulevard

911 still the car of choice

Cruising, through the boulevard of broken hearts

It's going down like 9/11

Pun intended, I'm just looking for a building

They say the sky's limit so I let the top down now I'm looking for the ceiling

Instead, I found God

But it don't match the feeling

Of empty sex with random women

At least I'm honest

I'm 21 but still I feel like I ain't young enough

I never had shit so I'll never have enough

The type of the motherfucker to go and Runamuk

Do it all and then claim I haven't done enough

The winter's mine I was grinding in the summer but

Two middle fingers for the runner up, nigga

Don't let the devil in (Don't let the devil in)