No Service - Token

Before my grandpa died, he called me

Only to remind me every day above the ground is a blessing

I didn’t pick up because I was underground in the basement, in a session

No service, yeah, no service

I act like I miss home even though I started writing raps really only to escape

it

Only part of travel that I look forward to is the plane ride

Give me space and no service, no service

I won’t go to service for mom, won’t go to service for dad

Grandma think I need religion, sister think that is a trap

When I saw the rabbi, he asked me if I’m faithful

I said «Yeah, I’m faithful»

Thank God, thank God, thank God he didn’t ask what I’m faithful to

My girl pray like she faithful

She pray, pray that I’m faithful

But no matter what I really say, but no matter what I really do

Everything that I say isn’t true, everything that I say is a fight

She think that I only wanna fight, but I do not wanna fight with her

I just wanna see how much fight, how much fight she got in her

How much trust she got in her?

How many tours I go on?

How many times will I slip?

How many chances I get?

How much love she got in her?

How much trust she got in her?

How much left she got in her?

How many times I bought dinner?

How much cash can I spare?

This meal cost like one fifty

And I’ma flip a fucking chair if I get no service

Waitress: Are you guys all set to order?

Token: Yeah, uh, you wanna go first?

Girl: Yeah, sure, can I get the, uh, I don’t even know how to pronounce it,

but it’s right here on the menu, um, and can I get that without any dressing?

By myself in hotel rooms

Is the only time I can really get myself to sleep lately

«Do not disturb» sign on that door handle for the cleaning lady

I want no service, yeah, no service

I write about the shit I think about every single day

Fans say it takes so much courage

My boy just got back from the military

I never said «Thank you for your service»

No service

No one thinks I need guidance

No one thinks I need nourishment

Two thousand comments on my last post

No one thinks I need encouragement

No one thinks I need a visit

No one thinks I need a favor

No one at my doorstep except packages delivered by a stranger

Mailman at my house more than anybody that I know today

But I never shared a word with him

Shit, I don’t even know his name

I wonder how much he infer about me

From the fan mail and those words about me

Expensive clothes, new phones, humidifiers, microphones

European outlet adapters

And shirts in bulk, and CDs in bulk that refer about me

He probably knows me better than my friends

I bet he never even heard about me

When I’m home, I don’t tell a soul

Only management and that label know

My fans say they wanna take my soul

But sometimes I think that they care the most

My fans only wanna hear my heart

I give it up like this shit ain’t in my flesh

I give it up, give it up, give it up

Mama said, «What if one day there’s just nothin' left?»

That made me wonder who’s after my soul?

Shit, do I even believe in a soul?

Maybe I’m just overthinking it all

Probably just overthinking it all

Monday 8 AM, outta bed, hit the gym

Leave the gym, find the flow, Monday

Used to feel like a brand new beginning, now it don’t

No complaints, old friend at the gym I ignored

I ain’t social, back at home

Knock, knock at the door, leave me alone

I don’t wanna see no motherfuckin' postal

-service

Postal service, is anyone home?

Hello?