[Intro]
How you guys doing out there?
Let me speak a little of my mind for y'all
[Verse 1]
You can say I'm one son of a drunk
I'm under the impression that no one will ever love me, it sucks
Try to act [?] and I try looking punk
You never make it if you fake it, so I'm basically stuck
I need a break, folks
Secure a record deal
I don't deal with my art, never let it keel
Alone without no mentor
[?] go get her
Telling me I should censor
I'm a felony no censor
You mad at me?
Battle me, sad to see all these casualties
Saddle up and get out of [?]
Don't matter if you're out of weed, I'm blazing
And take off for a week
Write until the mic is like the Nyquil I need to fall asleep
And start dreaming again, but all I see are these demons within
Happy on the outside, crappy on the inside
Laughing at the doubts, like 'bash me when I'm dead guys'
I've been messed with
Broken up when no one's up
Woken up by a scream, fight fist, just the normal stuff
I was ten or so, grabbed a pen and wrote how I felt
Now I sell CDs out my den alone
That's never changed
I've done it on my own since the seventh grade
And I don't need your [?]
They sit and talk behind my back, while I'm rocking from the studio and operating tracks
[?]
I'm been saying raps, while I'm mopping place's floors just to try and pay for crack (all this crack)
That I don't need and wish I didn't buy
'Cause I'm sick of chasing dreams, when this vision's a mirage (like)
How you guys doing out there?
Let me speak a little of my mind for y'all
[Verse 1]
You can say I'm one son of a drunk
I'm under the impression that no one will ever love me, it sucks
Try to act [?] and I try looking punk
You never make it if you fake it, so I'm basically stuck
I need a break, folks
Secure a record deal
I don't deal with my art, never let it keel
Alone without no mentor
[?] go get her
Telling me I should censor
I'm a felony no censor
You mad at me?
Battle me, sad to see all these casualties
Saddle up and get out of [?]
Don't matter if you're out of weed, I'm blazing
And take off for a week
Write until the mic is like the Nyquil I need to fall asleep
And start dreaming again, but all I see are these demons within
Happy on the outside, crappy on the inside
Laughing at the doubts, like 'bash me when I'm dead guys'
I've been messed with
Broken up when no one's up
Woken up by a scream, fight fist, just the normal stuff
I was ten or so, grabbed a pen and wrote how I felt
Now I sell CDs out my den alone
That's never changed
I've done it on my own since the seventh grade
And I don't need your [?]
They sit and talk behind my back, while I'm rocking from the studio and operating tracks
[?]
I'm been saying raps, while I'm mopping place's floors just to try and pay for crack (all this crack)
That I don't need and wish I didn't buy
'Cause I'm sick of chasing dreams, when this vision's a mirage (like)
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