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06-22-05, 06:33 PM | #1 | ||
Don't Even Think About It
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B.O.S. and OSB Present: Welcome To My Life
IP:
BOS=blue
OSB=purple "Welcome To My Life" From hustling to jewelry, and using drugs just to cure me To roughed up by security, and seeing judges and juries All of my life was just purely, full of trifling and fury Until fighting secured me, of getting stripes prematurely I went through hand made prisons, in man made systems That the man made strictly to appease the band aid victims Where gangs break kids in, by slashin ya mans face chin to chin And ya damn fate's pinned in, as those in command take limb swings I can't stand the stress in the bars, where death makes it hard To confess when ya charged, of groping breasts of the guards There's nothing left but ya scars, when ya left in the dark But a mess in your heart, when ya madness turns to sparks Regrets in your soul, that more than suggest like a crow You'll be laid to rest in a hole, for stabbing chests of ya P.O. Only after death you'll be known, as an artist like Van Gogh And not just a John Doe, with an empty X on tagged toes What is more sad though? Then the concrete life, where not only does heat rise But it beats, slices, and executes you by your own devices I'll keep striving and living, when peace finds me in heaven Until three time offenders, all get street sign remembrance Chorus: This pen and pads my Elysium... When my breathing done will the struggle end... Keep lending hands at a medium... This is one of the things that troubles men... As I'm listing fears, I sit wondering why I'm not buzzworthy, Begin shifting ears, to the truth away from the nontrustworthy, Switching gears... On a lonely road I'm beginning to follow, Where does it end? When I take the last drink from the bottle, As I'm thinking I swallow a chug... darkness overwhelming me, My minds telling me to give up though I sing to Apollo above, Releasing the hell in me... Its changing a raven's flight, The truth exsists but continues being consumed in the fading light, Through the midst of mumbles and echoes of the shady night, Is moving fists... What troubles me goes to amazing heights, Moonlight showering through the mist... I'm escaping life, Only way possible is sitting down with a page and write, Engaging fights... with myself... and I'm taking the fall, Boundaries placed around my hope and they're breaking the walls, Promises have been made to me...Though most shatter like glass, I try to look on the brightside... Keep that in the past... This pen and pads my Elysium... When my breathing done will the struggle end... Keep lending hands at a medium... This is one of the things that troubles men...
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Last edited by .Barz Of Steel. : 06-22-05 at 07:10 PM. |
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