[Verse]
They all think I’m American, but I’m not, I’m really fucking foreign
I’ll come through as a Samaritan, when i’m out there touring
Spent my life making comparison, of people I was adoring
I was low, fooled by arrogance, I’ve spent a while restoring
Two nights ago, I came to a conclusion
I’m deluded with envy, jealousy, and confusion
I find it amusing, how, i turn my anger into music
Most of the things that i produced, came from something that was disputed
What kind of demon, am i really infused with?
I find it hard choosing my path, i find writing therapeutic and visceral
Changed up my act, become way more liberal
That’s a fact, but not really talking political
An abstract of this could be, that i am way more literal
I’ve had multiple experiences change me for the better or worse
When i sit down and write, they like a letter or verse
Sometimes i just wanna share my pain, know that my effort came first
I’m not rubbing it off, like if a pepper dispersed
It’s hard keeping up the mask, when i got such darkness behind me
A big part of me died, half a year ago precisely
A traumatizing experience, really fucked up my psyche
I don’t fucking care anymore, so everyone can just bite me
Last few months i been stressing, never had time to digest it
Now i’m sitting here alone, punished for my repressing
All this time where i haven’t thought about it, i thought i was progressing
Gotta learn to live with it, cus i can’t escape my depression
All the things that i’m spitting, it’s me sharing the truth
Got hundreds of stories that i should spare for the booth
Maybe in the future i could be part of helping the youth
Help them come to terms with their life, and bearing their juice
They all think I’m American, but I’m not, I’m really fucking foreign
I’ll come through as a Samaritan, when i’m out there touring
Spent my life making comparison, of people I was adoring
I was low, fooled by arrogance, I’ve spent a while restoring
Two nights ago, I came to a conclusion
I’m deluded with envy, jealousy, and confusion
I find it amusing, how, i turn my anger into music
Most of the things that i produced, came from something that was disputed
What kind of demon, am i really infused with?
I find it hard choosing my path, i find writing therapeutic and visceral
Changed up my act, become way more liberal
That’s a fact, but not really talking political
An abstract of this could be, that i am way more literal
I’ve had multiple experiences change me for the better or worse
When i sit down and write, they like a letter or verse
Sometimes i just wanna share my pain, know that my effort came first
I’m not rubbing it off, like if a pepper dispersed
It’s hard keeping up the mask, when i got such darkness behind me
A big part of me died, half a year ago precisely
A traumatizing experience, really fucked up my psyche
I don’t fucking care anymore, so everyone can just bite me
Last few months i been stressing, never had time to digest it
Now i’m sitting here alone, punished for my repressing
All this time where i haven’t thought about it, i thought i was progressing
Gotta learn to live with it, cus i can’t escape my depression
All the things that i’m spitting, it’s me sharing the truth
Got hundreds of stories that i should spare for the booth
Maybe in the future i could be part of helping the youth
Help them come to terms with their life, and bearing their juice
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