BUILDING BLUEPRINT
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Lyrical Analysis of...
Never Say This (Soon to Be Recorded)
- There's some other shit in my life that I just can't explain,
- growing up poor and middle class, different sides of pain,
- and I said goodbye to childhood, was a king who would reign,
- now I only see the dark nights and clouds, skies rain,
- and again and again, I'm just trying to refrain,
- same difference, as a kid, I was bullied, called me "lame",
- people up in cultured cities didn't understand the twang,
- Southern slang, product of the red states, Mark Twain,
- dang, I was ashamed, still every day I play my game,
- as best I can, I pray to God and hope I never hear my name,
- stuck inside this blank frame, people say its picture perfect,
- but I know it's worthless, empty smiles, when's it gonna change?
- Sam Cooke, I'll switch lanes and hope that y'all remember me,
- and hope that all these messages engrave into your memory,
- still inside this life I feel that pressure, I've made enemies,
- so I find my rhythm and I hum some tunes and melodies,
- and I find my feelings and emotions as I write these words,
- sometimes I just need to vent, it's not like I like to curse,
- or say some ig'nant shit I didn't mean, that turns to hurt,
- the person I was friends with who turned back, repeat, rehearse,
- and every time I speak a verse I try to get away from stress,
- escape at best but every time I make a mess and play the rest,
- of some smooth jazz albums up, up through my tape cassette,
- I'd never be the one to drink or go to smokes or blaze the cess,
- and Mama told me "all you need are just a couple of your friends",
- "and all these others don't matter", she'd say again and again,
- I'd never with intention ever go commit a sin,
- but sometimes struggles trouble you, so I pick up the pen,
- and try to write some stuff like this, but then at some times,
- I try to spill my heart through paper and ink, can't find a word to rhyme,
- rarely does light shine in the gutter, but through the wrath,
- I try to grasp to my humanity, but find the empty paths,
- stuck inside this quicksand, with both legs and knees in deep,
- findin' no one else relates to pain I have, can't speak to me,
- and even though I say "forget 'em" and go on in decency,
- I still can't find my inner self and I play who y'all need to be,
- through the troubles and the struggles and reflections in the gutters,
- through the waste and through the rubble, I still find we're brothers,
- and I try to link and organize communities, we hate one another,
- but I find we'd make a difference if we understood each other
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