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inspiration doesn't have one source from everywhere it takes its course lives in places, different faces graces nature with it's force if you can't see it all around us, start looking
Intro: I want to thank my Twin B for believing in my talent when I didn’t, love you… Young J is a rapper he says I write my own lyrics to these songs, please press reply
Free your mind, free your mind What does it mean, really, to "free your mind? Is it to have a brain with no thought? Like weight with no size?
All you bitches that fake yea you can go take the bus all these bitches that fake always getting so fucked up now All you bitches that fake man yea can go take the bus fuck these haters fuck ugly thots
It sucks to suck. It sucks we all suck. Suck it! I guess it's useless. There aren't many people who are a real. I ain't talking about a the trend of being real, I mean really real.
Hopeless, and I don't think that you noticed so i wrote this Cause I want you to know this before I disappear,whether I'm dead or gone,far from here Love my city although many mental wounds had to scar here
Stare at this paper writing yeah life is complete Bullshit that is,music is my only retreat Demons haunting me I could never hope to defeat
Can't believe my life lately man,where do i begin? It's been a crazy few months, dont know when it'll end It's all been negativity no positive spin Fighting a uphill battle assumin i'd never win,well
Years spent stuck in my old habits they're so hard to let go of Dents in these walls, loco enough to blow, but i got no motive So explosive they say i need a therapist, to attack my head like a terrorist
Me and Instagram we go back and forth like a pendulum
Oneida says she's out of timefor mining lies from crooked mindsand spending nights beneath strange blanketsstreet-to-street, tab at a time.
As my eyes close my mind is blown..
The people act like they know me. Act like they know what it's like to be "free". Freedom? What a fucking joke. Locked inside the bars of my own mind, rattling the cells but no one hears me.
To whom do we owe the pleasure of your enchanting spewing graceful nature? Around which many gather themselves, a crowd to applaud your short comings, and possibly a cheer or two.
It’s hard on you my dear, Always on the move and working fulltime, Carding young people swimming in beer, Or choking on the lime. You look exhausted my love, As you dart from edge to edge of your cage, so tiny.