Never Quit, Or the Evil Wins.
trap, hard rock, brass, piano, violin, electric guitar, powerful vocalsLyrics
ayo
sometimes
i just wanna quit…
nose to the grindstone though,
lonesome road for a broken soul,
beaten by the stones thrown,
screaming so loud but nobody ever comes,
I’m by myself in a burning home,
i just,
crank up the tunes and forget that this world exists,
it’s so contorted, twisted, demonically sinister shit,
theyll throw you to the wolves talking shit about their sister,
mister,
I’m buster brown with a big ole frown,
where the world turns up the noise,
my autistic ass tones it out,
somehow, I’m on top of the world, even though I feel like I’m crashing out,
can’t you see me with a lil tree, a mini sprout, one single cartridge, all I need to lyrically blow your brains out,
no gangster but my family’s scared I’ll paint the house,
they’re probably feeling guilty they’ve never visited mine,
minus a couple of ‘em, the rest just whine,
and bitch about this that and the other,
they don’t understand I don’t hate my mother,
I’m just upset my childhood innocence was smothered,
bruised beaten and battered,
the more I say it,
they just get madder,
so I’ve taken to the music,
the poetry is my ladder,
as I climb the stairway to Heaven,
I Dream on,
don’t stop believing,
this is a Journey,
don’t Rush,
we’re in no hurry, Queen,
I’m like Ozzy, a rockstar when I arrive on scene,
with a bit of a shake, from, stress induced pain,
my true bane,
reality leaves when the real me escapes,
and the real me sees fake,
every thing around me decays,
becomes a cotton candy parade,
and I recognize im dying in like every way,
but I’m really alive,
living a relatively normal life,
but if I start to approach it like that, I start to slip,
and when I start to slip, the truth becomes A-fib,
and A-Fib becomes A-lie because I’m oxygen deprived,
my hearts beating so fast it’s passing both the C8 and the M5,
they wave the checkered flag as I’ve won the race of insanity,
another left turn into a wall of animosity,
self loathing and doubt,
and on goes the music,
still blasting Ridin’ by Chamillionaire like it’s 2008 in Grandma’s Malibu,
and I felt like I was the coolest kid to ever walk inside of that stupid high school,
with a face caked in lithium induced drool,
how the fuck could I be cool,
every chance I got I tried make the class laugh by acting a crass fool,
i still do,
on social media trying to make my friends laugh,
i wonder if they can tell I never really knew my dad,
probably,
oh well,
that’s the thought pattern repeating inside this broken head,
speaking of broken heads,
i heard some people gossiping that I’m just better off dead,
in closed circles thinking I wouldn’t hear it get said,
“what are you really gonna do”
like I said in “Im still me”
send about 50 rounds of aggressive text messages,
and threatening words make up the subject and the predicate,
my penmanship you cannot emulate, but my life IS a nintendo game,
it’s so weird, because as a kid I always dreamed it’d be this way,
and now that I’ve got all I ever wanted, I kinda want to give it all away…
Dang…