War With Myself Bad Harvest

[Verse 1]

Holy shit, you should see the state I’m rhyming in
My bedroom so fucking filthy I can’t even find a thing
All I can see is my beat pad all lit up
And a half written song, I guess I was fed up
Don’t surprise me, that’s not cos I am a perfectionist
It’s cos I work on my own terms, call me a secessionist
I definitely know I write rap better than I rap right?
My flow so foolish, but I’m fresh like a White Knight
I’m so old news like you should see my boat shoes
I’m so authentic, you could buy my shit at whole foods
But for now you can just download it from Sound Cloud
Say my name and hip-hop together and try not laugh out loud
I’m drunk and I’m rhyming man I ain’t even trying man, which probably goes to show
Why no one who has heard my shit lost their head like Sleepy Hollow

[Verse 2]
Jesus, he sucks, I’m sipping on a frozen Martini
It’s my apocalypse now ain’t you Martin Sheen me?
Palindrome, I’m Big Gib, no need for a pedestal
Teaching degree but I never went to school
Hey that’s cool mister, I want to be like you Sir
Never Dumb It Down, spit it like a Lu tongue Twister
At war with myself, only have two states of mind
Paralytic or hung-over cos I’m drunk all the time
I just wish I was able to pull myself together
Lock ears and Lock leers of passers by like Heather
Girls calling me the breeze cos I come and go
Everyone high on me cos I got a dope flow
Or maybe I’m just putting them to sleep
They think I’m fucking Silverchair, cos I’m a freak
Trust me, I am a freak
I’m a mute like Gambino, man I do not speak
I am a freak, trust me
Trust me