Picture Perfect (Prod. Productio...

Thanks to DistortedWonder for the mixing!

 

Verse 1

Don't know if the shit is worth it

Tryna make it picture perfect

When I'm lividly bursting in rage when critics heard it

Going over it twice, hope to be nice, my grip on my wish

It disturbed me, to find a whole other sight

I just hope to be in a zone

When it just feels so home

Even if the emotions grown

To cause commotions I'll roam

Across the streets no one is stopping me at a single moment

No windows open to welcome me, a simple token

Of rejection, my grin has broken into many pieces Jesus

Do I leave it and let the amicus go and teach us

That we're failures of life, words impale us like knives

If you make a mistake it's too grave for a savior to right

It's a system and mission to coerce us to conformity

Standards created to hurt us like we're born to be

Living in perfection of your eyes, even if I have to try

And put on a disguise to walk in the path of life

 

Verse 2

It's like you stole my soul and just locked it away

Hammered it, broke a hole and then dropped it in hay

Grab a lighter start a fire to go and burn it to ashes

Think you'll stop me this way, that I'm earnest and passive

I've earned it to have it, but you use your permit to bash it

Blemishing my feats like epidermis in rashes

I'm learning the habit through a surplus of practice

Filling my empty soul with warmth, like furnace and matches

So when I lay back and think way back on my terminal mattress

I wouldn't say it was for nothing, worthless and dramatic

I feel like a blinded man, out searching for thoughts (thots)

No pun intended, just replacing the thirst I forgot

May never get anywhere, but at least got an escape

But hell, I need an escape from the escape, wait,

Is that a small ray of hope? Nah, it's just deceptive

Want out of this, but know I'll alway come back to this wreckage

 

Verse 3

I'm sick of noticing shit and dwelling on hate

Sick of having my head in my hands with hell in my face

Telling me straight that nothing has ever fell into place

That I accomplished nothing, there's no greatness to make

Sick of people coming up to me acting deceitful

Telling me who I should be, and I'm not their equal

Sick of putting everything in my art and getting laughed at

Sick of seeing haters necks and not being able to snap that

Sick of depression in my veins when I spit this verse

I wanna rip this earth apart with my gifted curse

If this is it for me, I don't see myself turning back anymore

I won't open any doors, nor will I again rip a beat

Sick of recording the same rhymes nine thousand times

Searching for the perfection that I was out to find

Key word, was, I feel I'm about to erupt

Fuck ur standards, this is one take, grab a mic and bust

 

Yo, aright. It's like, you lost everything, to fit in a standard,

giving up ur spirit, ur soul, it's not worth it,

not worth it to make it picture perfect