Repetitive Sob Story

The cause of all my misery spawns from flawed history

but i'll start knocking victories when I stop everyone who stayed dissing me

All my friends who ain't missing me

all the girls who ain't kissing me,

and when I created great ideas everyone who hated listening

Big thanks to everyone in middle school and high school

everyone I knew that never thought I was cool

If It weren't for you I would've stayed a fool

But look at me now, pretty soon they'll be saying i rule

If I got big, I'd leave everyone behind

That's cuz all my Friends had lives

And they'd all still rather die

Working 5 to 9

Saying life is fine

but when I lie tonight

i'm trying cyanide

 

Back before the pain I was riding on my crutches

Now everybody's great and I'm rushing

Now I don't care if i end up in heaven

Anything's better

then acting like whatever from 11 to 7

living like a menace, turning corners like i'm in gang,

waiting for my life to end like i'm in jail praying

i'm stuck delaying,

waiting all day

to try and understand

why god would make me this way

My patience? I lost it. I'm angry, psychotic

I hate it, i'm nauseous, i'm breaking my conscious,

by mistaking my nonsense for relating to knowledge

responding to caution, no stopping or starting

 

-back in elementary,

all the kids were my enemies,

now i'm legendary?

got some fake Friends, low key

so i was broken?

no one was below me?

but i'm a real nigga now? FUCK that, blow me

 

I need a break,

i swear these feelings aren't fake

I can't see the pain

but I feel heartache

like i'm composing a hypnosis,

quoting all my poems with slow versus,

cursing the world for no chorus

 

Please just see me i really need this,

bleeding feelings, meaning decreasing,

dreams are neat, but i sleep with demons

heat so bleak, i feel like i'm freezing

here comes the vanity

here comes insanity

here come my multiple split personalities,

agony, tragedy, everything's magically tracking me

and everything i attack comes back at me

Gotta think about shit

amicably, typically,

Become the rap god by

mimicking synergy

I'm critically cynical,

a syllable criminal,

but its pitiful

how i'm still visibly miserable

 

-oh no, i think that i'm rotting

looking in the mirror and my body's throbbing

my arms are cotton, im falling

yelling at God or Satan or Allah to stop it

polluting my music with putrid illusions,

druid delusions defusing my mind

hanging my noose right after Lo-Fi

pain is exclusive, id like to know why,

 

cheap shoes no goals

because i think i'll never die!

previewed .

no hope .

am i 19 or 45

slit skin .

tried it .

cant die when i'm not alive

i'm winning .

I'm lying . . .

I might be my own parasite