Yo Its not hard for me to speak openly/
About how i dont want know one to notice me/
Because of all the dirt I did locally/
So I distance myself socially/
And lash out towards the people who are close to me/
And society wants me to shut up and kiss ass,
because thats how your suppose to be/
But these acts of sin are all over me/
I yell to quit, but the grip keeps choking me/
And its hard to resist the persistence,
of the devil who keeps poking me/
Im just sick of chalking up loses/
And being glared at like a freak,
because Im following crosses/
An all the whispers are constant/
Behind my back about the fact that the blood my sins were bought with,
was just my fantasy/But how can it be/
when nothing in my life has stopped or ever damaged me/
Look, sometimes Im a dick even when I dont try to be/
But its the devil on the right side of me/
who lies to me/who's constantly trying me/
Attacking my weaknesses, while bribing me---with riches/
which is/
sometimes more comical then seeing all the jocks from high school,
all turned into little bitches/
But my flow is more disturbing then getting hexed by six eastwick witches/
And having visions, of me hanging myself in my girlfriends kitchen/
cause i could no longer handle the anger that fuelled my rage,
like a high powered piston/
Sometimes the rhymes I write make no sense to me,
like a homosexual christian/
sometimes i just want to get out of the grips of the fists that Im clinched in/
So I act up, and throw hysterical fits of canipshin/
And I never see the pain in which Im enflicting, upon myself/
whenever my life stability starts slipping/
And my folks start tripping/
And my girl starts bitchen/
About the fucked up decisions, of sins Im commiting/
Like my rhymes no good, because of all the cuss words that Im spitting/
And the details that Im skipping/
But the skills that Im kicken, get no props,
Like a fat ugly girl stripping..............