The Look

All they care about is the look

All they care about is how people look at them

All they care about is the hook

All they care about is how the hook sounds

Honestly I listen to the words

And not the sounds of the repetitive beat

Cause the beat could be really sick

And the words could be not as sweet

I wish people didn’t worry about the look

Don’t think about the rolli, pick yourself a book

Educate, at least that’s what I do

But I know that’s not enough for my folks to let me through

I write perfect cursive

And only speak when spoken

But I realize the ones who don’t speak are the most broken

I’m tired of living a double life

Tired of thinking about weddings with my invisible wife

I’m just tired man!!!

Dag I’m just tired.

No sleep, no drugs but I seem fully wired

I play the part and they control the strings

I’m just a wooden puppet like P and his broken dreams

Of being real, and feeling alive

Walking on your own, knowing where to go without a guide

Even the GPS tells you the turns coming next

I’ve been off road for a minute, took a detour with this text

What’s wrong with taking an alternate route?

Seeing more, feeling different, taking a longer commute

Honestly I hate how people care about the look

All I want is to look good with you…




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