i can get so fuckin stuck on old writings. stuck, like trapped.

there was this dude that lived back in poughkeepsie ny that i chilled/partied with probably less than 5 times but he was a rapper and went by the name The Fallen Son.. he had really great words and one time i replayed the song over and over and wrote down the words so i could finally read the lyrics in full. its so good

“You ever think that you don’t belong somewhere
so all you do is space out and all you do is stare
cause life is dramatic and changes be radical
and still to this day i don’t know if i’m compatible
a few minutes of happiness is a lifetime of wacki got monkeys on my back, they’re putting chips on my shoulder
the summers gone friend and it’s only getting colder
and i know i’m lost in this world full of hypocrites
where time chews you up like a piece of fucking liquorish
it’s gibberish – my words half of the time
i’m trying to stuff emotions into words deeper to rhymes

so this is how i live and i told you it ain’t pretty
my life is so gritty, yo fuck this whole city
daily fights with depression, block it out with trees
but now the weed has become something that i seem to need
and i don’t claim to be a hero, heroes don’t exist
they’re only fabricated just to get us through this bullshit
life’s a canvas, you gotta leave a mark
you’re born with a pallet and your brush is your heart
so go and create some art and you can live in this filth
these urban wastelands that humanity built.
I’ve seen others wilt away and it sure won’t be me
cause ima find the silver lining high above these trees
and ima find the breeze with the beach to match
my future’s trapped in an egg and i just need it to hatch
but until all that, i’ll just rumble through
because no one cares if i wake up at a quarter to two.”

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