The stress behind my lines is best behind my time,
So lets be kind and fine, forget, rewind my crimes,
The debts be high and fined, though I sit and linger,
When I wouldn't give a shit but I would flip the finger,
And I would get so angered over my father wow,
I've been over it for years so really why bother now?
Shit no one's ever liked me whenever I try to roam,
Misery loves company though I sit and cry alone,
Choked and pushed around, frequently put to frown,
Nothing to look forward to, that's why I'm looking down,
Shooken now, hated by all with a biased hand,
And I just keep falling every time that I try to stand,
Thinking "Am I a man?" No, I'm a rookie, disgrace,
Me and my dad alike, shamed when I look in his face,
Like every single thought of mine is sent to haters,
So I tear when I'm here putting the pen to paper,
Writing having fun with it, like I don't mean none to shit,
So this steel won't be stainless after I'm done with it.