Time is crucial, street knowledge useful
These men act pretty, so my lyrics are brutal
At times of quiet, words doodle
By the art of my pen, my mercenary friend
weapon of choice to these cowardly men
Besides my seeds,
music & words will be the only thing left of me
when I reach the end.
Asking the Lord when I get there
when can I see my daughter & son again
I was born in sin, lifes my repent
Never truly be in happiness
My awkward smile shadows my mess
eyes that should sleep has been neglected
Glad I quit cigarettes..cold turkey
Liver dying slow, preventing lungs from being dirty
As I stare to the sky, with misty eyes
am I already in paradise?
Or not knowing because I didn’t analyze?
To “think” is to, without the mind
walk with worn down shoes
See with a deeper point of view
“free spirit” because I live without rules