(This joint is based on my life a few years ago. The struggles I was goin' through, and how I felt about life. Different story now, just thought y'all should see where I came from. Y'all should know that I AM FOR REAL.)

Dear Mom//

(*click one chamber*)

If you're reading this, that means i've done somthing tragic//
And I couldn't make my problems dissapear like magic//
Instead i'm passed sick//
So I guess that's why you're gettin' this letter//
I feel you lied, saying everything was gonna get better//
You haven't seen my weather//
See here I pop pills which makes everything a bit cloudy//
I don't eat, or drink anything, so that makes me a bit drowzy//
School's boring, so I sleep, but that doesn't make me lousy//
You know you put me down ma, really hurt my self esteem//
Mike and Scottie, Kobe and Shaq... We were supposed to be a team//
I mean, did you love me? If so why'd you call me stupid?//
Talk down to me all the time, and said i'll never be able to do shit//
Do you know how that feels coming from the women that gave me birth//
I questioned my integrity, and pondered my real worth and purpose on earth//
But don't think you are the only thing that put me on edge//
School troubles, this helped me gain confidence to get closer to this ledge//

Let's Begin.......
(*click 2 chambers*)

School's in session, but it ain't like i'm learnin' my lesson//
Teachers is pressing, but not about work, they're more concerned about the way i'm dressing//
My pants sag, so they automatically assume i'm a thug//
Anything goes wrong, they come to me like i'm a high school suge//
It's all good, so I guess now i'm the bad guy//
But yet i'm the one comin' home every other day with a black eye//
Yet they don't seem to care about shit, one teacher even saw it happen//
Students seen me gettin' jumped by 5 niggas, but just looked, laughing and clapping//
Then I look at my clothes, they aren't up to date//
But I keep my mouth shut, 'cuz I know we barely puttin' food on the plate//
Plus it's too late//
Kids wearing Jordan and South Pole//
I'm stuck wearing my cousin's shirts and my father's Kenneth Cole's//
What are my goals?//
I have none, already have the wrong reputation//
Plus teachers, principles, nor counselors wanna believe or face the problems that i'm facing//
So i'm patient//
But I don't mean to start any strife//
Life is beautiful, but I guess he wasn't looking at my life//
When I seen Chris layin' in his casket I saw a sign of peace//
And as his body layed relaxed, i saw a sign of relief//
I need that right now, that's why I hope you understand//
I promise ma, that guy you wanted me to be, I tried being that man//
But it ain't workin' so i'm gonna have to say goodbye//
Kiss Soula for me, and tell her I love her aight//
Everyone stay up aight, don't let me leaving get y'all down//
I'll still be around, matter of fact don't tell her i've passed, just tell her I left town//
Well the medicine's kicking in now, so I guess it's time for me to leave this world be//
Oh, and one more thing, while i'm gone, do me a favor... PRAY FOR ME//

(*click 3 chambers*) BOOM!

This is one of my deepest posts yet, and y'all still sleepin'. Can't even take the time to peep at a nigga's joint. Damn...

deep shit dawg,
(*click one chamber*)
(*click 2 chambers*)
(*click 3 chambers*) BOOM! - was nice

return da fav, ty -
http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/sho...&threadid=44992

ITS ALL GOOD, kinda reminds me of dat 2pac song what is it....we the last ones left??

Uppin' this joint.

This is sad. Not the fact that you want to kill yourself, cuz thats common, the fact that you said "I am for real"...that was pathedic

I'M FEELIN IT... I KNOW HOW IT FEELS, PLUS MY SITUATION'S DA SAME. GLAD I CAN RELATE TO SOMEBODY ELSE 'SIDES EMINEM,NAS,AND JAY-Z....

any shit thats true to da heart is food for the spirit,
i was there once too dawg, so i'm feeling it,
its good that's tha past and know you're outta it,

hey while yurr at it, wanna check out my shit???

*****
no luv
makin a livin

Fuck you Bruklor, bitch ass nigga... you don't know me motherfucker. Don't try an' tell me about some shit you don't know. Fuckin' hater. I spit some good shit, that you can't comprehend, and you start hatin' on me. Faggot.

Yo you got skill but i dont like it, not cos it's bad but the topic is kinda played and suicide isn't really a basis of a good piece unless you add a twist to it or sumin like Ex.- your girlfreind has written a suicide note, and you have to stop her from commiting suicide. jus rap bout the thoughts an' emotions in yer head at that time. you got skill though, but i wasn't feelin it (personal opinion though)

Goodluck in tha futre an shit
-out-

Im feelin it that shit was tight

this was wicked, great imagery, great flows and rhymes to boot. solid topic and well written. the interludes were perfect.

dont sweat the herbs who arent feeling this man, ive read a lot of open mics in my time and this is definately an ill one.