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There Would Be Signs

[Verse 1] I wouldn’t tell a soul, I’d play it cool, Live the same old life by the same old rules. I’d nod and say, “yeah, just getting by,” But you might clock the gold watch with your eye. I’d still show up to work, right on time, Say, “just savin’ up, pinchin’ dimes.” Call it lucky, maybe chance, perhaps, But I’d swear up and down I’m still middle class. [Pre-Chorus] I wouldn’t say I hit that Powerball line, But there’d be clues—yeah, there’d be signs. [Chorus] I’d say, “nah, I’m just lucky these days,” Rockin’ Gucci flip-flops at a mid-day matinee. Like my lawn full of flamingos in designer shades, And a fridge stocked deep with twelve lemonades. No, I wouldn’t brag, I’d act refined, But baby… there would be signs. Like a pet giraffe strollin’ down my drive, And a fountain poppin’ champagne at five. Like a backyard pool shaped like my name, Or tipping the waitress with a solid gold chain. No, I’d keep it low, I’d keep it benign, But come on… you’d see the signs. You’d see the signs. [Verse 2] I’d say, “it’s thrifted,” pointin’ at my suit, And “just a small raise” when I pull up in the coupe. Mailbox gold-plated, my cat’s got a throne, I swear she picked it out—I was overruled at home. Still eat ramen, just for the thrill, On fine china shipped to my house on the hill. I’d say, “money ain’t everything, friend,” But you might question that by the way that I spend. [Pre-Chorus] I wouldn’t say I hit the jackpot, fine, But there’d be hints—oh, there’d be signs. [Chorus] I’d say, “nah, I’m just lucky these days,” Rockin’ Gucci flip-flops at a mid-day matinee. Like my lawn full of flamingos in designer shades, And a fridge stocked deep with twelve lemonades. No, I wouldn’t brag, I’d act refined, But baby… there would be signs. Like a pet giraffe strollin’ down my drive, And a fountain poppin’ champagne at five. Like a backyard pool shaped like my name, Or tipping the waitress with a solid gold chain. No, I’d keep it low, I’d keep it benign, But come on… you’d see the signs Signs... [Bridge] Maybe space travel listed as “PTO,” A solid gold toothbrush—just casual though. “Still livin’ humble,” I’d say with a grin, As my butler parallel parks the Lambo again. No, I wouldn’t boast, I’d just recline, But baby… there would be signs. [Final Chorus] I’d say, “nah, I’m just lucky these days,” Rockin’ Gucci flip-flops at a mid-day matinee. Like my lawn full of flamingos in designer shades, And a fridge stocked deep with twelve lemonades. No, I wouldn’t brag, I’d act refined, But baby… there would be signs. Like a pet giraffe strollin’ down my drive, And a fountain poppin’ champagne at five. Like a backyard pool shaped like my name, Or tipping the waitress with a solid gold chain. No, I’d keep it low, I’d keep it benign, But come on… you’d see the signs [Outro] Can’t hide heaven when it shines this bright, Yeah… there would be signs. There would be signs.