8th Grade (Doubt / Gangster Life)

 

Eighth grade, I'm starting to doubt myself and my poeticness

I'm beginning to realize I'm nothing but patheticness

Born in Chi-town, here in Minneap, so I'm hardly repping this

I gotta exit the scene, get high, but not where heaven is

The negativity of these Northside boys is getting to me

I don't wanna rap about materials, I'm spitting truly

I tried to fight them, but they was getting at me, hitting through me

Never will I understand these boys and how they living cruelly

They could've given me what I wanted from day one, acceptance

I can't escape the stereotypes, I can't be free, no exception

It feels like it is impossible escape the troubles of my skin

It feels like I can't avoid the gruesomeness, the knuckles on my chin

Any hopefulness left in my mentality, ain't staying, no doubt

Any hopefulness left in me, I'm officially kicking you out

I swear I'm tired of these streets, I may as well follow these boys' steps

May as well give up, all that happened was that I made noise, wept

They were right when they said I was nothing but a fake genius

I'm tired of this devilish scene and always being up in arenas

 

(unfinished)