Fort Minor — Where'd You Go

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When the rest want guns and a mouth full of gold.

I don't hate 'em, I still love 'em,

That's not me, I'm not judging,

Not below 'em, not above 'em.

Put it together himself, now the picture connects

Never asking for someone's help, or to get some respect

He's only focused on what he wrote, his will is beyond reach

And now it all unfolds, the skill of an artist.

This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill,

Fifteen percent concentrated power of will,

Five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain.