Tired of drama.
Sitting in silence when I just want a,
Chance to breathe,
Like I should be doing.
Nicking apples in my garden like Patrick Ewing.
Trying to keep it moving,
Till I’m centered on my own block…
I just want to get away and jot,
A story I decide to be the Author of and put a stop,
To every single one of my conclusions,
To my death as my inevitable plot…
That plot I’m stuck inside of,
Where I rest within a patch of soil as a diamond,
In the rough.
Put enough pressure on my shoulders,
And I shine brighter.
Never liked cyphers.
I only need me to smoke rappers back on a stage where I burn liars.
I may be lighter…
I’m the white shark lurking through your murky waters.
I foster these thoughts hurting me to spill them out,
Even if I’m bothered.
While I flip her,
In a ditch,
Birds feed on for a sec while I grip her,
Soul and stick it in the dirt…
I’m usually thinking about a scorn who tricked me on an Earth,
Where I disperse,
Words you immerse,
Yourselves into while I picture,
Deep in a hearse…
I’m not sorry,
With two eyes that are starry,
For something brighter while I’m barring enemy lines…
I’m sending each rhyme,
Into many minds,
Just to mind their own biz…
I’m out here coasting.
I’m out here flowing.
I’m out here showing what a man can do when his hands aren’t folded.
Poked to a point where he’s holding,
Till he busts,
A brother’s head open till he feels like finishing up…
I don’t give a fuck!
They tried killing me.
They tried stealing thee,
Only kid I had who was healing thee,
Monster swimming inside of me,
Fucking up assholes like Sodomy,
Ever since I was left alone since no one was proud of me…
Chips on my shoulder.
Being held down by a boulder.
Placed by the ones who were my chauffeurs,
Into a life where I only seem closer,
Now that I’m older,
Now that I can’t get any lower,
I grab my breakfast from my toaster,
And shoot my shot at a chance to repent…