75%

Seventy-five percent (uhh-uhh) Seventy-five percent, just not enough to make a Friend (uhh-uhh) Sevenety-five percent, never fully loaded And I aint gonna pretend Dont wanna sugar coat it We cool, but we was never close Just some Moments of shared Laughter We shook Hands to part ways after Substances but no real Substance there to begin with Had a Feeling this was really nothing real but just a way to kill Time, got Shit on my Mind, yea Thoughts kept inside I really could cry & so you should too But we never do We never talk bout repressed Thoughts Bout the real Stress or Adress what we have to When I ask you how you are All get Is a Report Bout the job, bout the Car man, small talk is art And I feel like on an Exhibition Paint a perfect Picture So good, that to appreciate it, I need extra Distance Nothing personal But then again what isn’t Twenty-five percent more, that´s the Mission Seventy-five percent (uhh-uhh) Seventy-five percent, just not enough to make a Friend (uhh-uhh) (make a friend)