I spit senseless shit..........
jumbled words to disturb,,,, the morals within,
your proper up bringing, fuck ya I was raised in a barn,
And my pops is a piece of shit, was love to much to ask?
he could of at least hung around and beat my fuckin ass,
disfunctional would had been better than nothing,
now my life lacks fatherly guidance, I latch on to role models,
its so goddamn disgusting, but I is who I is,
And the counselor says I have personality issues,
a fatal prognosis, how did it happen?
with this fat sack of cannabis I entertain smoking,
you must be fucking joking , with your positive influences,
and your uptown attitude, I dont mean to offend,
my words just get misconstrued ,
you dont desire to understand me, reality wont let you...
forgiveness is bullshit, just a way of saying you're a pussy....
to damn scared to do something about it,
pull the pistol and pop it.... consequences forsaken,
you wrong me I wrong you, revenge replaces forgiveness,
thats true about justice, fry him where he stands,
dont get me wrong I still love, just a little bit different
I love if it suits me, helps me in some small way
mutually benefical, maybe I'm shallow,
a shell of a man, I'm fine with that
no identity crisis, just acceptance here,
throw in the hand I was dealt, or double down,
screw it I'm all in, jaw dropped and long faced
addicted and dont know why, bullshit
I decided to get high, nobody forced my hand
crack was a decision and I am not sorry for your pain,
dont choose now to be the hero and save me from myself,
I'm drunk and i'm driving, swerving in all lanes,
I drive like I live, reckless and shit,
and the dopeman is my friend, he furnishes my escape
puts it on face, but my face value is void,
even as a baby, I was twisted when they made me
a faulty product destined for the system,
a third world mentality, destitute and despicable,
it fuckin amazing, and I live next door,
close to your love ones and future and fancy dreams,
I enjoy people like me who cause pain, destroy destiny,
give people a reason to give up, promotes prostitution,
not an office job but it works, blue collar if you will,
seedy hotels with nasty smells, the scent of failure,
scars like lines on a mirror, and anger like fury,
give me liberty or give you death
Written by drugfree1977
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