![]() |
Ready to die
I suffer more or less, a mortal quest born a mess
Fully formed in the womb, in a tomb I bore the stress Worn from the wounds, my best not enough to move stone Sharin' these basic instincts to prove I'm reclusive prone This exclusive home of peace seems to be elusive, so Non-inclusive of us secluded drones, my conclusions grow I'm reduced to hope for a painless death, or a day that's blessed Just one way that works, worth testin' to weigh my chance Where's Mother Theresa when you need her, I'm starving too Longing for human touch, I'm not Marvin the Martian turned Q Who do I turn to, my discernment is fucked, this sermon corrupt It's garish to a parish that seems to disrupt Yet cherish those who erupt, I'm indecisive with most I get dressed every morning, but inside I'm a ghost Confiding to those in mourning, informing most in droves That inside I'm destroying, bad jeans like good-will clothes Perhaps society provided me with lies, to kill hopes I'm numb from the crown down, lyin' to myself I feel broke I'm still soaked in surreal soap, cleaning my life is a dream Only twice I seen my pops, Aids yanked him off the scene Now I'm seen as obscene, locked in quandary wandering Wonderin' which of my father's qualities are part of me Frolicking, so far life seems to be about sodomy The constant cons and schemes, it seems beyond apology uh |
niggas wanna sleep
sure... |
Heh, Nice piece nice flow ugly slop structure tho..U have what it takes 2 be here...Now get what it takes to be great....Nice piece again....8/10 I liked the morality
Uppin for Q, Hey q gimme feed....On my piece in sig |
word...preciate the feedback
1 |
i look at my life, try to decide the choice i provide my boys, when im in the ride, designed with interior toys, my mom cries i do too, no skrilla no honeez wat am i to do, but u may look at me like ima fool, i confuse words with thoughts, but i cant confuse food, like eatings a part of me but i dont look obese, my fathers deciesed but i hardened from the streets, my beats made from niggas with lyrical beef, cant eat chicken at the mcdonalds, they share beef up in a piece, please i dont beg, my own life son i do dread, im still dead, when my pops died, i lost all the bread, doe wasnt a major problem then, all of a sudden, shit was happenin, he passed away just as i was turnin eleven, he died in africa, i was in manhatten, son dont laugh at her cus i know shit happens for a reason, niggas live niggas die, but me i stopped breathin the day my dad passed me by,it was a stand still, my feet left the ground, my thoughts had to be found, i lost my momas crown, i swore i would devour all the love given to me, kill the hatred nigga im expected to be, a winner, so get ur pens up judges raise a ten plus im outta here nigga rock cashmere yeah, stay clear of the door ive seen this before, never bin shot, but i know how it feels, its like when a girl put u down from the hills.
|
Pretty nice...could use some flow and structure work, though.
|
...mutha fuckin word LE back sup dawg? dis virtue aka trase man...an this was aight not that good though....
|
^^^^^Kid, drop some real feed and stop socializin like a bitch in my piece
this piece is better than aiight...it's good now add advice or STFU. 1 |
...yo dawg seriously watch ya fuckin mouth damn an dont ever directly talk to me fuckin homo....<<lmfao literly
|
All times are GMT -4. The time now is 06:02 AM. |