Title: Lying From You
Subtitle:
Artist: Linkin Park
Album: Meteora
Author: Justin Macdonald
Copyright: 2003
Tabled by: tigergaze@hotmail.com
Instructions:
Notices:
Tempo: 80 BPM
Tracks: 4
Instruments:
Bars: 58

Lyric

I ordered a frappuccino, where's my fucking frappuccino? [hahaha]
Alright Let's do this

When I pretend everything is what I want it to be, I look exactly like what you had always wanted to see
When I pretend I can forget about the criminal I am, stealing second after second just 'cause I know I can
But I can't pretend this is the way it'll stay, I'm just trying to bend the truth
I can't pretend I'm who you want me to be, so I'm lying my way from you

Yeah
If you feeling like a pimp nigga, go and brush your shoulders off
Ladies is pimps too, go and brush your shoulders off
Niggas is crazy baby, don't forget that boy told you
Get that dirt off your shoulder

I probably owe it to y'all, proud to be locked by the force
Trying to hustle some things, that go with the Porsche
Feeling no remorse, feeling like my hand was forced
Middle finger to the law, nigga grip'n my balls
All the ladies they love me, from the bleachers they screaming
All the ballers is bouncing they like the way I be leaning
All the rappers be hating, off the track that I'm making
But all the hustlers they love it just to see one of us make it
Came from the bottom the bottom, to the Top of the Pops
Nigga London, Japan and I'm straight off the block
Like a running back, get it man, I'm straight off the block
I can run it back nigga cause I'm straight with the Roc

If you feeling like a pimp nigga, go and brush your shoulders off
Ladies is pimps too, go and brush your shoulders off
Niggas is crazy baby, don't forget that boy told you
Get, that, dirt off your shoulder

You gotta get that dirt off your shoulder
You gotta get that dirt off your shoulder
You gotta get that dirt off your shoulder
You gotta get that dirt off your shoulder

Your homey Hov' in position, in the kitchen with soda
I just whipped up a watch, trying to get me a Rover
Trying to stretch out the coca, like a wrestler, yes sir
Keep the Heckler close, you know them smokers'll test ya
But like, fifty-two cards when I'm, I'm through dealing
Now fifty-two bars come out, now you feel 'em
Now, fifty-two cars roll out, remove ceiling
In case fifty-two broads come out, now you chilling
with a boss bitch of course S.C. on the sleeve
At the 40/40 club, ESPN on the screen
I paid a grip for the jeans, plus the slippers is clean
No chrome on the wheels, I'm a grown-up for real, chill

I remember what they taught to me, remember condescending talk of who I ought to be
Remember listening to all of that and this again, so I pretended up a person who was fitting in
And now you think this person really is me, and I'm trying to bend the truth
The more I push, the more I'm pulling away 'cause I'm lying my way from you

(No, no turning back now)
I want to be pushed aside, so let me go
(No, no turning back now)
Let me take back my life, I'd rather be all alone
(No turning back now)
Anywhere on my own because I can see
(Naw, no turning back now)
The very worst part of you, the very worst part of you is me

This isn't what I wanted to be, I never thought that what I said would have you running from me
Like this
This isn't what I wanted to be, I never thought that what I said would have you running from me
Like this
This isn't what I wanted to be, I never thought that what I said would have you running from me
Like this
This isn't what I wanted to be, I never thought that what I said would have you running from me
Like this

You (no turning back now)
I want to be pushed aside, so let me go
(No, no turning back now)
Let me take back my life, I'd rather be all alone
(No turning back now)
Anywhere on my own because I can see
(Naw, no turning back now)
The very worst part of you, the very worst part of you is me

Beeatch