Lyrics
i write rhymes for me, if your not feeling it, cool,
may you end up, face down, at the bottem of a swimming pool,
with sick and drool all over your face, lookin such a descrace,
hoping that nobody recognises your face,
i keep it bloody, when i study the art, or ripping limbs apart,
my lyrics reach inside your ribcage and grab your fuckin heart,
and squesse, not once, not twice, but thrice,
and grip your life,and squese it tighter than a fuckin vice,
take my advice kid, turn around and walk away,
or grab a mic kid, and tell me everything you have to say,
im like a kid, i like to play, and though i dont often pray,
but i still beleive that jesus christ is looking my way,
i feel his eyes on me,looking at me all the way from heaven,
from the first day of the week,all the way up to the seventh,
i feel my engine revving, from within the reaches of my soul,
my teachers never thought, they just brought me further from my goal,
i got, cornflakes in my bowl, and im looking for better,
i want sunny weather, some fine bitch, holdin my swearter,
like a coat rack, with a rack to match, it sounds better,
but the weathers getting wetter, this life, better get better fast,
before i blast off, with a cannon and a rocket,
if i lose, ill light the fuse, with the lighter in my pocket,
this is for humanity, for every man who ever angered me,
and every girl who caused me agony in my heart, can bleed,
this is what i need, i call it lust, you call it greed,
you can call it what you want, but its a hunger that i gotta feed,
i gotta breathe, even though this life is chokeing me,
sometimes this life feels like a knive, cutting at the thraot of me,
its do or die,
in this life, its shoot or cry,
to survive the night you gotta try,
but in the end you gotta die,
the more money we make, the more the city takes,
my work rate went up, and so did my fuckin tax rate,
dont mistake me, ive no problem with taxes,
unless their goung to lazy motherfuckers sittin on their asses,
on social welfare, i want my taxes spend on healthcare,
hospitals need beds, more than junkies need medicare,
ya better care, cause the next time it could be you,
laying in the gutter in a puddle of your own fuckin puke,
and its all sugar coated, to the people who are devoted,
to kissing ass all the way up to the day,that their promoted,
and their lips are bloated, and coated with shit and piss,
this is my diss agaisnt you, if you die no one will miss you,
we'll just kiss you good bye, its do or die,
and all you did was nothing at all, your a waste my fucking time,
you make me wanna get up and go comit a fuckin crime,
i waste my time working, for shit, other people get for free
" oh look at new car, my parents bought for me",
you see em cruiseing round, 17 drivin mircs,
shopping at the baby gap, for new designer pink shirts,
faggots in daddywagons, i wanna spit bleech in their face
and teach them a little lesson, about working class hate,
if i wanna car i gotta work for it, every penny of it,
your useing daddys credit card,online buying a new outfit,
and the girls are just as bad, just as stupid, and just as sad,
spending 100's in brown tommas on the latest fuckin fashion fad,
trying to live up to an image that the media has,
of what perfection is, insted of being happy with what you have
i work so i can smoke, i walk around wearing rags,
takin drags, of my joint, as i sit and regret,
and continue to perfect, my lyrical intalect,
its do or die,
in this life, its shoot or cry,
to survive the night you gotta try,
but in the end you gotta die,
i got my knees bent, on the floor,praying for more,
but all we here aboout on the TV, is violence and gore
people getting shot, on the block more times, than fuckin 2pac,
for just a little money, or some drugs that they got,
this is real life, its more fucked up than the movies,
we got kids selling coke, and they laugh at the thought of juvie,
and some bais will cut
