I got big ole potential So I pick up that pencil Sketch out my art with no stencil It's always a party on my Avenue Skanks and Twerkers in Daisy dukes Loud mufflers and loud music I was born with a gifts so I use it Pick up the mic and flow Verses I never get in front of a crowd And get nervous I express myself this way on purpose If the energy ain't right then I'm rebuking curses I rather be Judged by 12 than carried by 6 to hearses In almost all my rhymes I try To curse less I wear my words...
Sometimes I feel like I'm stuck inside myself, only writing and feeling things about myself when the world is so big. But the eyes I have are mine, my brain and its synapses, my tongue and my lungs, my fingers and movements, these are also mine. Therefore, it's hard to see something other than what my eyes can see or feel and wonder about things my mind can't reach. But even if I could, my lungs breathe for me and my mouth is a slave. I can not escape myself, because I am human. And after everything, it means to be a prisoner.
Looking around Crying inside Looking in the eyes Many look past Not a soul in sight And nobody notice The pain inside As Iím behind hold Against my will And laugher all around
Strapped to the chest 3 bars A few wires Time ticking away Looking for a place To let loose Going back and forth Trying to ease the pain Fighting between the 2 And not knowing the same Going insane Back and forth As itís getting packed Fighting time As itís about to explode.
Why do I struggle to admit my darkness? I'm scared I'll be judged; that you will see me as heartless If my actions don't conform to ambition's parchment then how can I expect you to trust where my heart is?
Not good enough for this Not able to do that catastrophic thoughts bouncing ,round in my head
I know I am my greatest project but I fear you'll focus on my flaws; not my progress