Sittin at home from slavin with these 12 hour shifts,
Wrappin presents with a smile seems hell is our gift,
Haven't written a single word in hundreds of years,
I had to wait till my emotions became abumndant so here,
I'm Tryin to be a man, 'tryin' being the keyword,
Barely stringing my fingers just to see if these keys work,
Barely breathin screamin please work,
Tired of prayin my knees hurt and life still isn't that much better,
Prayin and askin for so long it seems my hands are stuck together,
My eyes closed in hope for so long I eventually fell into a deep slumber,
Workin so hard tryin to provide food for my deep hunger,
Because if I don't provide I'll die as nothin more than a weak hunter,
I run fast as I can but I'm stuck on the same road flyin past the street numbers,
How deep are the streets that we wonder?
When i scream thunder's released under the man-made band-aid i bleed under,
I ran all the way to the edge of sin but I'm still so small so I tip-toe,
Unable to win so I just let the wind blow till I'm thrown sideways from the hip throw,
From the shape that my lips go to the way that I shift slow,
The world makes a bitch out of me again like where the fuck did all of my ribs go?
Like the whole world just switched so I'm left with no balance,
At home writing slow ballads like shit this is no challenge,
Such a polite smirk of fake confidence resides on my facial structure,
Do you believe me when I smile and try to show you the way I love her,
Typing so humbly so I hope you don't mind my runny nose,
Fighting in bloody clothes rhyming but nothing shows,
Insecurely writing these scary thoughts so my raps stay true
I don't know how this story ends hopefully I'm just halfway through