Lyrics
He's on the edge of a ledge, depressed and he's bled stressin discontent, he's sick in the head, he feels nuthin but pain so there's nothin to dread, happiness has never coursed his veins, it remains in one place and it stays and I'd say try it, but it's so deep down inside he can't even find it, it's a silent night, and when violence arises despite the quiet, he's defiant, despises in a rhyme sense, a crime since they designed loopholes in the system, defense's witnesses are victim to an eminent infliction, you know him -- he flows with a soul driven bad like old women, so quit the bitchin bout his lyrics and his spirit, when it unfolds so you suffer under shackled of the unknown, a ghostly beast who roams the lonely streets alone -- wait, fuck, it's me!!
HOOK: I'm running from myself
And I'm running at everybody cuz nobody will help
And no one understands the hand that I was dealt
Or took the time to see why I feel the way I felt
A soul with no goal, how is one purpose driven after they decide life isn't worth the livin'? Let it show on the record that the measure of this pressure has me dreamin of bein in public dead on a stretcher with a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the spinal cord...dirt poor to the Earth's core, I don't wanna rhyme no more, but it stays the one and only way to relay this pain aimed at me astray -- go away! I'm Judas's protege, the stupidest flow today, leanin towards joinin forces with Dr Kavorkian, nonconformist spawned of a taurus and orphaned, like i'm a horrible kid for remorsin misfortune, there's no doors open for us to move up so now I'm stuck with no such luck, I'm so corrupt... I just wish when my daddy and my mama made they had better information on condom safety, contemplating the drama makes me believe thoughts of homicide are commonplace to see
Hook
It's like I'm runnin from sumthin, a future I'm confrontin, the conflict had bettered itself to my astonishment of knowledge, now i'm tryin to establish why my people got raped speakin in Spanish, the desolate truth of my future, tryna be something more than a peasant for sure, Purgatory knockin, there's no Heaven and Hell -- just silence and darkness, but this is my fear: revolutionary action helping my people escape from here, but when I'm dead, was what I said worth hearin? Being the center front of attention, facing fascist human rights, discrimination got an entire nation against me, hijackin your thoughts to tyranny, stop civil rights revolutionary mental plots, killin other motherfuckers for freedom, where will it stop?? The people are crying, can't you hear'em?? My confidence is deterioratin, nauseous, heads gyratin, tryna speak at the podium, I think I seen this scene before and you know what's gonna happen, thinkin of freedom like Malcolm X, seven people rush to the stage--what happens next?
HOOK
