Pusha T — Open Your Eyes lyrics

The page contains the lyrics of the song "Open Your Eyes" by Pusha T.

Lyrics

Open your eyes
Look up to the skies and see
Open your eyes
Look up to the skies and see
I’m just a poor boy
Seeing is believin'
Believe when you see it They saying I’m the best, shit
I’m just trying to be it
They tied me to a mountain of it
I just try to ski it Long distance wireless Kinect like I Wii it Double-U double-I, spelled so you can see it Cause it’s way over their heads when I Ray Allen 3 it
I’m Rondo on the bongos and giving you my convo
We ain’t been home since we were snatched out the Congo
Toast to progress as I’m staring out my condo
Made it this far and I ain’t never been like Tonto (yuh)
As you compare me to a fuckin' rookie
You can’t respect the new school when you played hookie
Cooked white, turned to tan so the world Snooki
School of Hard Knocks- look at where the game took me To the limit like Montana with better grammar
Bigger homes with bigger guns and better cameras
You are now listening to the future
Open your eyes, nigga, and see what I see
Don’t mind me, I’m just here to restore the feeling
Yeah, I’m just here to restore the feeling
You feel the pressure. Yeah
Open your eyes
Look up to the skies and see
I’m just a poor boy
I never pitched a penny in a wishing well (never)
I laid it all on a fishing scale (yes)
And an apron that hung from a kitchen nail
Straight from my memoirs as I kiss and tell
Big faces like Rushmore, touch more, fashion trailblazers, trendsetters look to us for
The next mission when the tides rise up With no inner-vision yet they eyes wide shut
Fifteen years abducting spies like us Confidential informants disguised like us Jail doesn’t resonate with guys like us Told Wesley at the Oscars to slide like us Didn’t listen, so prison is what they did to him
Accountant unscathed; Millions is what they hid through him
Same principles you must adhere
Lohans get the breaks, the T.I.'s, we just stare through 'em
Open your eyes
Look up to the skies and see
I’m just a poor boy