Ten Thousand Hours

Inspired by Malcom Gladwell’s 10k hours to expertise concept, rapper Macklemore explores the difference between skill and talent.

This page is a reference for Chapter 30 of The Laws of Creativity.

Ten Thousand Hours by Macklemore & Ryan Lewis

  • I hope that God decides to talk through him
    That the people decide to walk with him
    Regardless of Pitchfork, cosigns I've jumped
    Make sure the soundman doesn't cockblock the drums
    Let the snare knock the air right outta your lungs
    And those words be the oxygen
    Just breathe
    Amen, regardless I'ma say it
    Felt like I got signed the day that I got an agent

    Got an iTunes check, shit man I'm paying rent
    'Bout damn time that I got out of my basement
    'Bout damn time I got around the country and I hit these stages
    I was made to slay them
    Ten thousand hours
    I'm so damn close I can taste it
    On some Malcolm Gladwell
    David-Bowie-meets-Kanye shit
    This is dedication
    A life lived for art is never a life wasted
    Ten thousand

    Ten thousand hours felt like ten thousand hands
    Ten thousand hands, they carry me
    Ten thousand hours felt like ten thousand hands
    Ten thousand hands, they carry me

    Now, now, now
    This is my world, this is my arena
    The TV told me something different I didn't believe it
    I stand here in front of you today, all because of an idea
    I could be who I wanted if I could see my potential
    And I know that one day, I'ma be him
    Put the gloves on, sparring with my ego
    Everyone's greatest obstacle, I beat him
    Celebrate that achievement
    Got some attachments, some baggage
    I'm actually working on leaving, see

    I observed Escher, I love Basquiat
    I watched Keith Haring, you see I study art
    The greats weren't great because at birth they could paint
    The greats were great because they'd paint a lot

    I will not be a statistic, just let me be
    No Child Left Behind, that's the American scheme
    I make my living off of words
    And do what I love for work
    And got around 980 on my SATs

    Take that system
    What you expect?
    Generation of kids choosing love over a desk
    Put those hours in, and look at what you get
    Nothing that you can hold, but everything that it is
    Ten thousand

    Ten thousand hours felt like ten thousand hands
    Ten thousand hands, they carry me
    Ten thousand hours felt like ten thousand hands
    Ten thousand hands, they carry me

    Same shit, different day, same struggle
    Slow motion as time slips through my knuckles
    Nothing beautiful about it
    No light at the tunnel
    For the people that put the passion before them being comfortable
    Raw, unmedicated heart, no substitute
    Banging on table tops, no subs to toot

    I'm feeling better than ever, man what is up with you?
    Scraping my knuckles, I'm battling with some drug abuse
    I lost another friend, got another call from a sister
    And I speak for the people that share that struggle too
    Like they got something bruised
    My only rehabilitation was the sweat, tears and blood when up in the booth

    It's the part of the show where it all fades away
    When the lights go to black and the band leaves the stage
    And you wanted a encore but there's no encore today
    'Cause the moment is now, can't get it back from the grave
    Part of the show, it all fades away
    Lights go to black, band leaves the stage
    You wanted a encore but there's no encore today
    'Cause the moment is now, can't get it back from the grave

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