Writing Exercise #24 Chance the Rapper

[Intro]
Yeah
I'm a...

[Chorus]
I'm a mess, mama
Gotta get some things off my chest, mama
I'd be lying if I said I did my best, mama
I got lies, I got grief, got regrets, mama
I'm a mess, mama

[Verse 1]
Take me back to Blockbuster
You would tell me find a movie where they not cussin'
Don't treat no black people like we not cousins
That shit went over my head like a crop duster
I'm still peeking at the world over countertops
On my tippy toes reaching for the mountain tops
And nowadays I'm up late 'cause I'm down a lot
The other day a girl told me I be out a lot
I been dealing with these women at a rapid pace
You know the lies gotta real bad aftertaste
I had to play both sides when the side switches
I had to try to hide bitches from my side bitches
I'm a mess, mama, room still a mess, mama
I made my bed but the sheets wasn't stretched, mama
When you left all I ever did was rest, mama
Was this chicken in the microwave? Yes, mama