Get up, brush the dirt off your shoulders and get back in the game.

Monday, June 10, 2013


I'm just so fucking depressedI just can't seem to get out this slumpIf I could just get over this humpBut I need something to pull me out this dump
I took my bruises, took my lumpsFell down and I got right back upBut I need that spark to get psyched back upAnd in order for me to pick the mic back up
I don't know how or why or whenI ended up this position I'm inI'm starting to feel dissin' againSo I decided just to pick this pen
Up and try to make an attempt to ventBut I just can't admitOr come to grips with the fact that I may be done with rapI need a new outlet
And I know some shit's so hard to swallowBut I can't just sit back and wallowIn my own sorrow but I know one factI'll be one tough act to follow
One tough act to followI'll be one tough act to followHere today, gone tomorrowBut you'd have to walk a thousand miles
I think I'm starting to lose my sense of humorEverything's so tense and gloomI almost feel like I gotta checkThe temperature of the room
Just as soon as I walk in, it's like all eyes on meAnd so I try to avoid any eye contact'Cause if I do that then it opens the doorFor conversation, like I want that
I'm not looking for extra attentionI just wanna be just like youBlend in with the rest of the roomMaybe just point me to the closest restroom
I don't need no fucking man servantTrying to follow me around and wipe my assLaugh at every single joke I crackAnd half of 'em ain't even funny like
Ha! Marshall you're so funny manYou should be a comedian, god damn!"Unfortunately I amI just hide behind the tears of a clown
So why don't you all sit downListen to the tale I'm about to tellHell, we don't gotta trade our shoesAnd you ain't gotta walk no thousand miles
Nobody asked for life to deal usWith these bullshit hands we're dealtWe gotta take these cards ourselvesAnd flip 'em, don't expect no help
Now I could've either just sat on my assAnd pissed and moanedOr take this situation in which I'm placed inAnd get up and get my own
I was never the type of kidTo wait by the door and pack his bagsI sat on the porch and hoped and prayedFor a dad to show up who never did
I just wanted to fit inEvery single place, every school I wentI dreamed of being that cool kidEven if it meant acting stupid
And Edna always told meKeep making that face and it'll get stuck like thatMeanwhile I'm just standing thereHolding my tongue tryna talk like that
'Til I stuck my tongue on that frozen stop sign poleAt 8 years oldI learned my lesson then'Cause I wasn't trying to impress my friends no more
But I already told you my whole life storyNot just based on my description'Cause where you see it, from where you're sittinIt's probably 110% different
I guess we would have to walk a mileIn each others shoes at leastWhat size you wear? I wear 10'sLet's see if you can fit your feet
In my shoes, just to seeWhat it's like, to be meI'll be you, let's trade shoesJust to see what it'd be like
To feel your pain, you feel mineGo inside each others mindsJust to see what we'd findLook at shit through each others eyes

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