deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Situation

Sold my belongings just to pay my mumma rent
Tryna keep my focus making payment come again
Offering my labour to the people round the way
I won’t stop the hunt until I finally found the pay
I really need to move out, feel the tension in the house
Staying up to write all night but I can’t make a sound
Constant alpha battles with my dad for stupid reasons
Have to love my parents but I just can’t wait to leave them
Mumma always hurting, got that neck and shoulder pain
Balancing my care for her and building up a name
I can’t be a carer and build up my fucking legacy
I need to spread my wings, my situation isn’t letting me
So every morning, wake up, make a cup of coffee, smoke
Write a verse, take a shower, remember how I’m fucking broke
Practice what I’ve written until my vocals cords can’t cope
Ponder what’s the harm of making dough by selling of dope
Plenty fiends
With empty dreams
An endless sea
Of entropy
Unstable folk
Whose cradle broke
And gave up hope
Befriending me
I gotta get my gwop, need to navigate my notes
People pressure me to play my part, Im sorry this ain’t a soap
I’m no character
I smoke lavender
I make raps
Don’t take naps
I won’t rest
Till I’m best
Till they see that I’m ahead
Of the curve
Watch me swerve
I got nerve
But no purse
So pursuing what I’m doing till I’m earning what I’m worth
Written by Benzy_420 (BTheW)
Published
Author's Note
Quite simple. It’s the situation I’m in.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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