Dreamer

(Start at 0:21)

 

First writtens were mediocre stories at seven.

Everything got a flaw, we desire perfection.

Got my first taste of hip-hop at the age of eleven.

13, the Eminem Show illegally in my possession.

My friend burned a CD that I would listen to when feeling depressed and

I was just a young dreamer, lost without hope, questioning

"Is this something that I want to do as a profession?"

The older I got the more these feelings grew and festered

My mind fucked up, anger has now infested it.

Notebooks full of rhymes, all this time invested, shit.

Something that I wished would lessen just keeps bringing up lessons.

Life is good, then why do I feel so much pressure?

Tell 'em I'm happy and they just say "whatever."

Rolling their eyes knowing the truth of it all.

Cold-hearted but I'm heated--check the weather.

Everybody sees the writing on the wall.

Is today the day that I decide to pull the lever?

You know, they say that you can't live forever.