untitled

it was lost,

at a first glance,

searchin for the worthy hands,

scurry'n to pick apart the pieces,

of a broken man,

if only,

holdin sands of time,

applied enough pressure,

to every flesh wound,

that i have left in my ledger,

and i better say,

you better not,

starin at a broken clock,

waitin for the time,

when i can finally buy a better watchhhh.....

good enough to get a record deal,

but man enough to never,

pan handle for electric bills,

steady skills,

keep the ready n will,

on some heavy kill,

dressed to the 9s,

til i grinddd off these shoe heels,

leap froggin,

every scapegoat,

thats ever broke the path,

holdin up your glass,

but i can smell it on your sober ass,

november....

its gettin colder,

and depression...

starts to really set-in,

fuckin worse than armegeddon,

who you tellin!?

been to hell in back,

at least half way,

i mean,

Half of what i say,

aint even Half that great,

but i....

every time the needle drops,

i feel im ready to escape it,

if only i could shapeshift,

into fuckin greatness,

but always,

its the pencil breakin off,

before i finish,

sometimes i get pissed,

and sometimes its good riddens,

either way,

i need the closure,

somthin to get me closer,

to puttin my name,

next to his,

on that poster,

im a soldier,

so im goin nonstop,

til i can touch it,

kiss it on the cheek,

and tell it how much i love it,

i aint budgin,

til it sucks the fuckin life,

outta my stomach,

push me off the top bunk,

just watchin,

as i plummet,

im a cardboard cut out,

of what a rappers supposed to be,

but onily,

these phony silhouettes,

still aint approachin me, 

i......

watch the blood drip,

slow like,

pull the hammer back,

and just WAIT for a green light,

now....

its up to you,

to find your way back,

when home isnt home no more,

thats the payback,

and i....

*this is a project that I hope to work on with my friend Brian....look out.

side note: pay no attention to spelling...rappers are too cool to spell correctly while writing.