Mourning Sun

They say my verses are bitchin and they're in love with my struggle-
These curses are written so my only decision was to give a hug to the hustle-
Foundation is muscle, raised as a stick in a fort and grew into a brick in the fortress-
Audis and Porsches, carports and porches but now all of that is of little importance-
Of course I'm the source to the right course and this is the proof to prove it-
This is an influential movement and I'm the one that was influenced to move it-
Positive pursuance was truant so I had to fuck up this page-
Negativity never had a place to stay, so that's why I was constantly wrestling the rage-
A page away is the wait, brakes  off let the chase begin-
I'm still counting losses and wins,crosses and sins, and when it comes to friends I'm down to half of ten-
Two and a half men,one girl a notebook and a half filled pen-
The best of them want to sink sin and the rest of them want to play pretend-
Constant battle with no paddle and I'm floatin up shit creek-
I'm no longer in that concrete complex and it's so complex that a dead end is where I sleep-
The shits so deep that I can't even see the morning sun-
Mama's still mourning her only son and sometimes I think she's the only one-
Get the Draco and the drum, I got a shooter that loves to shoot it-
The drama's d eep like the ocean, writin that paper wave and this is the paperwork to prove it-
Paper mache game, hot butter knife on butter I run right through it-
I'm not a rapper, I'm a bar owner so belly up to it and take two shots of this fluid-
There boo-hoo'n on the book about life and how it's so bad-
Suicidal tendencies and I wish that they remembered me when a 22 was the only thing that I had-
22 with a rag that wasn't white, was taught to never surrender-
I'm duckin shots as cold as December clocks, get me in that interrogation room, Alzheimer's , I can't remember-
Truth contender ,Paperwork is as clean as young love-
The only time I get mean is when i lean on that one drug-
Good times like hiccups that means that they only come once in a while-
Months turn to miles, listenin to my fears chokin back tears, wash em down with blood and bile-
Riled  style and it's been awhile since this cracker's gotten a crumb-
6 feet  deep with the beef don't know how to run, got it tatted on me so they know where im from-
North county bound, Mr. Rhodes is on the road to the riches-
Imported imports beatin heavily, that's  the heavenly soul of these bitches-
Got ahold of my britchess so that sledge stays tucked-
Preachin that hostile gospel, and with any luck , by the morning son I may give a fuck-