Focused
trumpet, beatbox, drums, piano, trombone, reggae, ukuleleLyrics
They tell me “you’ll never make it with that digital voice”
I just ignore them, make some obnoxious noise,
and then I go play in the cave with this array of pleasurable toys,
solo dolo,
I’ll leave the planet amazed,
like, I ain’t even blazed,
just on some pain meds for a bad fall and bored so ima graze,
a few unlucky souls who said that I’m not a thing,
but a loud, whiny, punk, with a sense of grandiosity,
I’d like you to aspirate my sperm but see I wouldn’t put my member within 3 feet of those nasty unbrushed teeth,
breath so not sweet,
Jesus Christ bruh what the hell you eat!?
this is worse than Harold last week!
all good, here’s some Colgate and listerine,
they’ve been calling me a sadistic and psychotic Silverstein,
I think I’m closer to a bird brains version of Stephen King,
you wanna fight me? K, Swing!
when I’m up to plate I’m Denny’s baby,
Grand slams all day,
anywhere, anytime and any place,
or so my mind say,
but my mind lies,
my mind gets crossed between the borderlines of trauma left by some degeneracy in the family tree,
but thankfully,
growth was made.
an unlucky shot missed,
instead,
you just got hit with forgiveness…
may the universe bless you with all you ever need,
I don’t have the heart to hate,
I just write it out so I can process the pain,
of the entire world shoving it’s weight on a body clearly bound to break,
I get pissed because I just want to sing a song next to Ariana and Drake,
but I’m disabled and I can’t so I use the words on this screen,
and I rap, and I sing,
and you will NEVER take that away from me.
delete the apps.
destroy the towers,
my courage will find a way to the waves,
not for attention for those who need love so bad they shake,
trying to sleep because of the PTSD from existing within a certain street,
regardless of any type of politicking,
it’s heartbreaking to watch gun violence escalating to its current degree,
and it makes me sad people go on robbery sprees because of how deep the grasp is of poverty…
properly,
let me express I don’t have any intent to behave or act scholarly,
I’m a dropout,
but I’m a warrior,
and for a better tomorrow I write.
for a better tomorrow I pray I’m heard.
for a better tomorrow I pray they bless me with millions plus in net worth,
so I can build gardens for the hungry, and hospitals for the hurt, bring water to the thirsty, and bring a voice to the unheard.
so mind your own business,
stay in your own lane,
because I’m pretty crazy,
and I might just go insane,
swerve, and crash head on into you without a second thought, okay?
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